


Mistletoe

by orphan_account



Series: Babysitter!AU [5]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bofur/Nori (background), Christmas Fluff, Dwalin/Ori (background), Multi, kid!Fíli, kid!Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:30:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 22,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's only the sixth and Bilbo officially already hates the Christmas season. There's only so many times he can listen to Fili and Kili sing Ding Dong Merrily On High out of tune before he brains himself on the coffee table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 6th - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So, look! The Babysitter!AU is back (and it's a Christmas story, how original)! Sorry about the early update on a Christmas story (as it is really only the start of December), but this has quite a few chapters so I have to start now!

Bilbo officially hated the Christmas season.

He was only half an hour into his designated babysitting session with Fili and Kili and already he had a headache, and the beginnings of an ulcer, and also, probably very soon, a brain haemorrhage.

“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me: seven songs are singing six trees are thinging _five golden things_ four roaring birds three French pens two purple doves and a party in a pear tree!” The hollering was getting out of hand, but Bilbo didn’t really have the heart to tell them to stop.

He’d assumed that soon enough they’d tire themselves out by jumping from couch to couch and running round the living room, screaming completely incorrect and almost incomprehensible words to the tune of certain Christmas songs, but right now he wasn’t sure if he could wait them out or not.

“Come on, Bilbo!” Kili grabbed his shirtsleeve and tugged at it, urging him to get up and jump with them. Bilbo certainly didn’t have the knees for _that_. Maybe he’d be brave enough to try if his head wasn’t revolting against him. “Sing with us!”

“Please, no,” he let his hand drop from his face so he could look at the boy. “My Christmas Spirit only comes out when there’s coffee involved. _Lots of coffee_.”

Kili frowned, little furrows working their way between his brows. “Fili!” he turned to his brother suddenly with all the seriousness of a cardiovascular surgeon with a patient on the operating table. “Bilbo needs coffee, quick!”

Fili jumped down from the sofa, darting across the room and down the hall where the kitchen was.

“Oh, God, do _not_ let him operate the coffee machine.” Bilbo announced, getting to his feet. This could only end badly. Just like the toaster incident and the microwave incident before that, and the accident with the sandwich press four months prior to that.

“I’ve got it!” came Fili’s yelled reassurance. “I made Ma one the other day!”

The assurance didn’t do much to pacify him, to be honest.

“Well, I’ll still watch you.” Bilbo informed him, coming into the kitchen now. “And you need to be very careful-”

“I know, Uncle Bilbo,” Fili rolled his eyes, as if Bilbo was being needlessly concerned. As if he _hadn’t_ set fire to the kitchen three months ago. “It’s fine.”

Kili took a seat beside Bilbo at the table, swinging his legs as he watched his brother turn switches on the machine and grab a cup. “He’s really good,” he whispered into Bilbo’s ear proudly. “He made me a hot chocolate on it yesterday before bed.”

“And that makes how many hot chocolates this week?”

Concentration washed over his face as he mentally counted. “Seven,” he announced.

“And it’s only Wednesday,” Bilbo continued.

Kili grinned toothily, obviously proud of himself. Though Bilbo wondered how long until all those little teeth started to fall out because of the sugar. “Yeah,” he nodded eagerly.

“Well, diabetes here we come.”

Kili cheered, very clearly not understanding what that meant. “Are you excited for Christmas, Bilbo?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side.

“Well, of course I am,” Bilbo assured him. “Everyone’s excited for Christmas and Santa, aren’t they?” At the mention of the big fat jolly man, Kili lit up excitedly, but Fili just rolled his eyes.

“Santa doesn’t exist.” He stated simply, not bothering to turn from the coffee machine.

Kili’s face fell.

“Excuse me,” Bilbo said now, putting his hands on his hips. “That is just rude.”

“So Santa does exist, then?” Kili asked eagerly.

“Of course he does!”

Kili giggled delightedly before turning to his brother to gloat. “I told you so! I knew it. He said Santa wasn’t real, Bilbo, but I _knew it_.”

Bilbo grinned and ruffled his hair. “Besides,” he said now, “even if he didn’t exist, that’s still no reason to behave like a Grinch.”

Fili just pouted at the two of them, turning to hand Bilbo his coffee. “I caught Ma putting the presents out last year,” he informed Bilbo.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “You really think Santa can go to every single house in _one night_ , Fili?” he asked now. “Sometimes he needs help.”

Fili looked suspicious, but maybe there was a possibility that he was slightly convinced. “Then what about the men in the malls? There are way too many of them for it to be the same guy.”

“Look,” Bilbo sighed now, picking up his mug. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” Fili leaned in, interest piqued. “There is no _one_ single Santa.”

Fili’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“Santa is a feeling. A belief. A good will to all men. And just because you can’t see him, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“So he’s not a real person, but he is a thing?” Fili asked, still confused. “He’s… _people_?”

“I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“But he’ll still get me presents, right?” Kili asked, just as befuddled as his brother.

Bilbo laughed into the rim of his mug. “Yes, Kili. You’ll still get Santa’s presents.”

Kili exhaled nosily, making his bangs flutter. “Good.” He looked relieved. “I sent him a letter asking if I could have a puppy.”

“A puppy?” _Oh dear._

Kili grinned and nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Well-” he wondered how Dis would deal with _that one_. He changed the subject. “And what did you ask for, Fili?”

“A motorcycle.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Bilbo pressed a hand to his face to smother laughter.

“What is it, Bilbo?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he pulled his hand away and smiled at the pair of them. “They’re good present ideas.”

“What did you ask Santa for, Bilbo?” Kili asked.

“Well, in my letter I said I wanted George Clooney wrapped under the tree, but I have an inkling that _that_ request might be a little too popular for it to actually come to fruition.”

Besides, that would be an awkward one to explain to Thorin.

“I don’t get it,” Kili said, frowning. “You want a person?”

“It’s like you and that lady from Doctor Who, Kili,” Fili explained to his brother.

“Jenna-Louise Coleman!” Kili clapped his hands together. “Is it too late to change my Christmas list?”

“I know what Uncle Thorin’s getting you for Christmas,” Fili teased now, ignoring his brother.

“Oh, yes!” Kili added. “I do, too!”

 Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “And what is it?” he queried. Best he find out now. He hated surprises.

Kili giggled. “We can’t tell you, silly!”

“Can’t you?” he wondered. “Well, how about a hint, then?” Both boys shook their heads, tight lipped for once in their short lives. “Alright, fine,” he said, trying a different angle, “how about I’ll give you two a hint about your presents if you give me a hint about mine?”

Kili looked tempted, but Fili smacked his brothers’ arm before shaking his head. “Nope.” He announced. “We were sworn to secrecy.”

Of course they were.

“How much did he pay you?” Bilbo demanded.

Fili grinned widely, showing off his latest missing tooth. “Twenty pounds _each_.” His voice was laced with pride.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered much too low for the boys to hear. “It must be good then if he’s paying you that much.” He ran a hand over his face. “I haven’t even gotten _his_ yet.” He looked down at the two boys. “What should I get him?” he asked a little desperately. “I have no idea.”

They were both silent and in utter concentration for a moment.

“…A haircut?” Was the eventual suggestion from Kili, who scrunched up his face when he answered, as if unsure of how the idea was going to be received.

Bilbo burst into a fit of laughter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So usually I'd have uploaded this chapter on the sixth of December, but as the first chapter is in two parts I've put this one up early. And if you guys see any errors, just tell me so I can fix them up!


	2. December 6th - Part Two

“So Fili and Kili mentioned you got my present already.” Bilbo said casually during dinner later that night.

Thorin choked on his pasta. “What?”

“Oh, you can scrap the look of concern,” he waved it off, irritated. “They refused to tell me what it was or even give me a hint. You paid them off well.”

Thorin relaxed a little. Then he grinned. “Good,” he said now. “Nice to know I can buy their silence for a reasonable price.”

“For now, anyway.” Bilbo replied simply, scooping up some pasta and putting it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. “I’ll find out sooner or later though,” he announced after swallowing the food. “I always do. And you know how I hate surprises.”

“Well, this is a good surprise. I promise.”

Bilbo just frowned at him. “My mother always used to say that no surprise is a good surprise.”

“She didn’t like them either, then, I suppose?”

Bilbo shook his head. “Not really, no. I remember vaguely once when my father snuck up on her and he frightened her, and she broke his nose.”

“Well,” Thorin set his fork down, “I won’t be sneaking up on you any time soon.”

“Good.” Bilbo smiled, pleased. “Oh,” he face fell with the realisation, “I have to ask.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

He pulled a pained face. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked, both desperately and dejectedly.

He laughed. “What? Don’t want to surprise me?”

“I’ve never been good with gifts,” Bilbo sighed in reply.

“You got Fili that sword,” Thorin interjected, “and Kili loved the basketball hoop.”

“Dis suggested those,” he informed Thorin morosely.

“Ah,” Thorin said.

“I know,” he huffed. “I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

Thorin chuckled, getting to his feet and grabbing their now-empty dinner plates. “You’ll be fine,” he assured Bilbo. “I’ll think of ideas and tell you.”

“That would be helpful.”

Thorin walked into the kitchen (not before Bilbo gave him a slap on his arse when he walked by, though).

“I’d appreciate less leering in my direction.” Thorin informed him jokingly as he set the dishes down. “You make me feel like an object.”

“Well, I could just go and find someone else to lavish my attention on, if it makes you feel any better.” Bilbo announced dramatically, getting to his feet and moving towards the living room.

He was crossing the doorway when Thorin jogged after him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him to a stop.

“Now that is just mean,” he said, resting his chin on Bilbo’s shoulder.

Bilbo leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth. “Well, tease and get teased in return.” He swatted Thorin’s hands and pulled from his grip, moving towards the couch.

“Television’s broken again,” Thorin announced as Bilbo flopped down on the cushions.

“Really?” he whined. “Damn.”

“I’ll call the repair guy tomorrow.” He wouldn’t. He never did. Usually they’d just wait until the problem fixed itself.

“Alright,” Bilbo sighed, settling for the radio instead. “Coffee?” he suggested hopefully, listening for Thorin’s sigh and begrudging agreement.

“Fine,” he sighed and Bilbo was sure he was rolling his eyes.

“How was work?” he called when Thorin walked away.

“Alright.” That usually meant the complete opposite of what it sounded like. “We lost a client.”

“Oh.” He never was really sure what to say when they talked about this sort of thing.

“Couldn’t be helped,” he could hear the clatter of cups in the kitchen. “Guy was an arsehole anyway.”

“Still…” Bilbo said now. “It’s a pain.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he could hear Thorin’s footsteps coming closer.

“So,” Bilbo began as Thorin came in with two mugs of coffee, attempting to change the subject to something a little more cheery, “does everyone always come here for holidays?” He’d missed Christmas last year, mainly because Hamfast had called him, drunk, and announced he was getting married and Bilbo just _needed_ to be there. The people of Hobbiton _loved_ their Christmas weddings. In fact, Bilbo had heard gossip from Hamfast during his last call that there’d be _another_ one this year, though Bilbo had no idea _who_ it was getting married. Hopefully it wouldn’t be on Christmas Eve though, like it was last time.

Bilbo had woken at midday on Christmas with a monstrous hangover, Bell unconscious in the kitchen still in her wedding dress, and Hamfast being sick in the upstairs bathroom.

It had been one hell of a wedding.

“Most of the time,” Thorin replied, taking a seat beside him and taking a sip of his own drink. “It’s easier that way. The house is big enough for all of us, and it’s the nearest to all of us.”

“I suppose that seems logical.” Bilbo thought about it now. “Dis wants me to go over tomorrow and help put up the decorations.”

Thorin groaned and rolled his eyes.

“What?” he wondered. What was that reaction for?

“She always has so many, and the house is so _huge_.”

Ah. “You don’t like putting up decorations then, I assume?” Bilbo asked.

“Not at all.” Thorin made a face. “It’s never good enough. She’s always telling me to _move it just to the left_ , or _put it higher_ ,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s never right. It always has to be just perfect.”

“Well, I wished you’d have told me this sooner,” Bilbo said now, faking concern. “I’m worried now.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’re patient, so it’s alright. I hate anything that takes longer than three minutes.”

Bilbo was going to make a joke about _three minutes_ , but thought better of it at the last second. “I’m surprised you can even feed yourself.” Bilbo muttered instead.

Thorin pinched his side. “Enough of that, you.”

Bilbo laughed into his cup.

 

* * *

 

“So what are you getting Thorin for Christmas?” Dis prodded while he teetered on a chair, sticking mistletoe up on the doorframes the next day.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” he moaned.

“What?” Dis looked a little too innocent to be unaware.

“I don’t know what to get him,” he declared morosely. “He said he’d think about it and tell me what he likes, but that doesn’t really help.”

Dis grinned. “Ah. Well, you’d better get him something good.”

“Would I get him something bad?” Bilbo asked, confused. “Do people actually do that?”

“Unassumingly, all the time. I don’t know if anyone does in on _purpose_ , though. I just mean, it better be something good, because, honey, I know about his gift to you, and it’s pretty awesome.”

“You know too?” He dropped the mistletoe and turned to her, hands on hips. “You have to tell me.”

“Oh, no,” Dis laughed. “I have been sworn to secrecy. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin the _surprise_ of the _best present ever_.”

Bilbo made a face at her.

“Now come on,” she picked up the mistletoe and waved in his face. “Pucker up and kiss me, Bilbo Babe.”

He burst into laughter and tried to push her away.

 

 


	3. December 7th

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those Christmas nuts.”

Bilbo jumped, just managing to keep himself upright, and held onto the wall before looking over his shoulder. “Oh, hello Thranduil,” he managed, putting a hand to his chest. “You gave me a bit of a fright.”

Thranduil looked unimpressed. “Lights already?” he asked depreciatingly, waving at the outside of the porch which was already laden with decorations. “It’s only the seventh.”

“Well,” Bilbo began primly, “some of us like to get started early. Besides, Christmas lights are so pretty anyway, don’t you think?” he lifted up the ones he had in one hand, as if presenting an example.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “Just get those two to keep it down tonight. I do not need to hear any more child-like renditions of Frosty the Snowman.”

“You should hear them try to sing Carol of The Bells. But fair enough,” Bilbo grinned, putting his spare hand up in a gesture of peace. “I’ll talk to them before I leave.”

“Good.” Thranduil turned on his heel, about to leave, but instead paused and glanced over his shoulder. “I suppose you’re still with that oaf, then?”

“Thorin?” Bilbo wondered. “Of course I am.”

“Pity.” Then he swung around once more and went down the driveway and across the lawn to his cousin’s house.

“Odd.” Bilbo said to himself before turning back to his work.

It wasn’t long before the boys came back inside after running up and down the pathway, and Bilbo noticed Kili cradling something in his hands. Something that looked suspiciously like a living creature.

“Oh, God, please don’t let it be a baby.” He told himself, getting down from the railing and following them inside.

“What the _hell is that_?” Dis all but shrieked from the living room. Bilbo came down the hall as Fili replied.

“It’s a dog.” He said simply.

Dis did not appear impressed. “It looks like an overgrown rat. Get it out of my house.”

“But we found him in the alley,” Kili began, speaking quickly and urgently, “and he looked sad and hungry and lost and-”

“It’s so… _fugly_.” Bilbo said now, frowning at the creature: an overweight, elderly, balding Pugdog. At least… he _thought_ it was a Pug. In hindsight it could have been anything, really.

But Kili was in love. “Can we keep it?!” he begged, eyes twinkling. He grabbed the dog under the arms and picked him up in probably one of the most incorrect ways possible. But the mangy thing just let out a huffing whine and let Kili pull him closer to his chest. “He’s the best and I love him so much and I’ll feed him and take him for walks and everything, I swear!”

Dis hesitated, only for a moment, Bilbo was sure it was because she knew a dog was on Kili’s wish list, and the easiest option would be to just let him keep the damn thing.

“Honey,” she knelt down in front of him, “this dog might just be lost. He could have family waiting for him somewhere, missing him.” The dog in question hardly looked like a pet. It was very clear he’d been wandering for a while, if the stench of dirt and garbage was anything to go by.

Kili looked like he was going to cry.

“How about this,” Dis tried, desperate to cheer him up, “well take him to the pound, we’ll let them look after him, and if no one picks him up, we can talk about it.”

Kili seemed slightly appeased. “Can I feed him?” he asked.

Dis just sighed. “Yes, alright. But do _not_ put him on the table. And do not give him cheese! Oh,” she called as he carried the dog down the hall, “and no bloody soft drink either, he has _water_ , not lemonade!”

“What about hot chocolate?” Fili wondered, sticking his head around the corner to look at her sheepishly.

“Certainly not.”

He shrugged and left to go find his brother.

“I’m going to name him Azog. Because it sounds like ‘a dog’!” Bilbo heard Kili announce down the hall.

Dis winced at the mention of the man who’d killed her mother in a hit and run years ago, and Bilbo found himself wincing along with her.

Kili probably didn’t even realise where he’d heard that name before. From what he probably understood of the situation, his grandma had gotten into a car accident and that was that.

“That’s lame,” Fili whined. “Let’s call him something cool. He looked ugly, so let’s call him Pugly.”

Dis seemed relieved. Bilbo was certain she wouldn’t want a dog named Azog. But Pugly wasn’t that much better, although Bilbo did find it kind of cute… and rather fitting, if he was honest.

“Pugsly!” Kili laughed now.

“Mugsly,” Fili suggested.

“….Maudley.” Kili sang, stretching out the ‘m’ for as long as he could.

“Jesus, they’re not going to let you sleep until you agree to let them keep it, you know.” Bilbo told Dis now.

“I know,” she put a hand to her face. “It’s so feral; I don’t think it’s safe to keep him.”

“He seems to like Kili…”

“Smaudly,” the boys continued their tirade of name suggestions from the other room.

“Smaud?” Kili asked now.

“Smaug!” Fili declared.

“Or,” Dis called down the hall, “you could name it Thranduil.”

Both the boys burst into paroxysms of giggles.

“I like Smaug,” Kili told his brother. “Smelly Smaug!”

Both the boys laughed again.

“If you’d like I could take him to the pound myself and get it checked out. See how long they’d have to wait before you could possibly adopt him. Maybe after a wash,” he suggested now, “and a few… well, a _lot_ of vaccinations, he won’t seem as bad. I mean, he could just need a little TLC.”

“A lot of TLC, you mean.” Dis grumbled. “I’ll talk to him about it tonight.”

“Oh, speaking of that.”

“Yes?”

“Thranduil told me to tell them to keep it down. The carols appear to be annoying the neighbours.”

Dis rolled her eyes. “I’m going to sing with them tonight. _Extra loud_.”

That was sure to go down well.

 

 


	4. December 8th

“Maybe you could get him stripers.” Frerin suggested as they strung popcorn onto string, watching Fili and Kili throw sludgy ice at each other in the backyard.

“They’re going to catch a cold.” Bilbo said instead of dignifying that suggestion with a reply, watching the boys with a considering look.

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Frerin waved it off, swearing quietly when his fingers slipped and he accidentally pricked his thumb with the needle. “We’ll just keep ‘em near the fire when they come inside. Nice hot dinner, rug them up tonight with their hot water bottles- they’ll be fine.”

Bilbo sighed. “And I can’t get him strippers,” he said eventually. “That’s just silly.”

“Well,” Frerin shrugged. “You could get _me_ strippers. I’d like that.”

“Sure. I’ll buy you a gift card for Flappers down the road.”

Frerin snorted. “Sounds great, actually.”

“Well, I’ll go down there tonight then, shall I? See if they have any coupons or something?”

“Good idea. You do that.”

Bilbo didn’t get a chance to reply, because the boys had come onto the back porch now, vying for his attention. “Bilbo?”

“Yes, Kili?”

“Can we get ice cream?”

“Are you kidding?” Frerin asked, laughing. “It’s like minus fifty out here.”

Fili rolled his eyes. “You’re exaggerating again, Uncle Frerin.”

“We’re not going to get ice cream,” Bilbo told them both, “but I will make you two hot chocolate and we can have some of your mothers soft caramels. Sound good?”

They both nodded, running inside. “I’m putting on the Christmas CD again!” Kili declared.

Frerin groaned. “Wonderful,” he muttered. “I changed my mind. Maybe I’ll just stay out here for now. Freeze to death, you know.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, picking up the bowl of popcorn and the string he’d been using. “Come on: inside. I still need your help with this.”

 

* * *

 

“ _He's making a list, chicken and rice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice_ -”

“Kili,” Bilbo spoke through the hands that covered his face, trying to repress the chuckles that threatened to escape, “that’s not how it goes.”

“Sure it is!” Kili announced happily, oblivious to their amusement.

“Okay, we need to get you a lyric book or something,” Frerin managed between fits of laughter, “because that is just going to be a big problem later.”

“You should have heard him the other night. He said ‘angels we have heard are high’, and then told me the boys at school told him that was how it goes.”

Frerin guffawed. “Remind me to record this sometime. It’ll be a YouTube hit.”

“And you can remind him about it conveniently on his eighteenth birthday.” Bilbo added.

“And his high-school graduation.”

“And his wedding.”

Frerin slapped his thigh in amusement. “He’ll hate me forever.”

“Well, one of his Uncles has to be uncool. Might as well be you.”

Frerin faked hurt. “I resent that.”

Bilbo just shrugged.

“God,” Frerin cringed once more, “am I going to have to listen to this all night?”

“You certainly are,” Bilbo informed him. “Lucky for me at the end of day I get to go home, but _you_? You’re stuck here.”

“I should never have agreed to babysit while Dis goes out tonight.”

“Don’t you dare cancel on her now,” he told Frerin now, pointed a warning finger at him. “She’s been excited about this date for weeks.”

Frerin made a face. “I know, I know. I’m not _that_ cruel. Maybe you could find me some earplugs though, before you go, though.”

“Ah…” Bilbo considered it for a moment. “No,” he finished as the boys began to sing a garbled rendition of Silent Night, “I think I’ll let you suffer. Isn’t it beautiful?” he teased, putting a hand to his ear, as if straining to listen for more.

Frerin stuck his tongue out at him.

 

* * *

 

“I’m home!” Bilbo hollered at the front door as he slipped off his coat and scarf, before something near the doorway caught his attention. “What’s this?” he said down the hall, peering at the bag.

“I’ve got to go to London on business,” Thorin called from down the hall. His voice sounded slightly strained. “Its last minute, but they need me.”

Bilbo wandered into the living room now, where Thorin was typing an email quickly on his laptop.

“I’ll be back in three days,” Thorin said, looking over the back of the sofa at Bilbo now. “You’ll be alright?”

Bilbo grinned cheekily. “What, I can’t handle myself for a few days without you?”

“Not at all,” Thorin replied impertinently, reaching out and grabbing hold of Bilbo’s forearm, “you’ll languish without me.”

“I think you’ll find it’ll be _you_ languishing without _me_ , thank you.” Bilbo informed him, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss him.

Thorin hummed into his mouth. “I’ll leave early tomorrow so you’ll probably be asleep.”

“Don’t try to wake me up or I might punch you.”

Thorin had learned the hard way that Bilbo didn’t exactly cope with being woken up early in the morning.

“Yes, yes,” he was smiling now, “I’ve learnt my lesson about that, don’t worry.”

“Good. Because I warned you about it when you moved in and you just refused to listen. No one ever listens to me when I warn them.”

“Must be something about your size.”

Bilbo smacked Thorin’s arm. “Rude,” he said now. “I’ll have you know I’m of perfectly average height and it is _you_ who is abnormally tall. Although,” he considered it for a moment, “with forethought that’s a good thing.”

“Is it?”

“It means I don’t have to stand on top of a chair to put the star on the tree this year!”

 

 


	5. December 9th

“I got your cake!” Bilbo trilled when Hamfast finally answered the phone. “I’m eating it now, it’s lovely.”

“Oh, good,” Hamfast seemed pleased. Tired, but pleased. Bilbo said as much. “Well,” Hamfast chuckled, “we’ve been rife with planning down here. Lobelia’s getting married so everyone’s rushing to get the wedding all set up by the eighteenth.” Ah, so it was _Lobelia_ getting married that they’d been gossiping about. “And you know Lobeila,” Hamfast continued, voice growing shrill while he imitated her. “ _Everything has to be perfect!_ ”

“I didn’t realise she was getting married so soon.” Bilbo commented now.

“Well, she decided on a whim about a month ago that she wanted a winter wedding like the one we had last year.”

In the background Bell shouted _“The bloody copycat!”_ and Bilbo grinned.

“So,” Hamfast continued, “we all had to start running about like there was a bloody natural disaster on the way. God, you should see it, Bilbo,” Hamfast was laughing. “The cake is big enough to feed a third world family for a year, I swear.”

Bilbo sighed. “She always did like to go ostentatious.”

“My, yes,” Hamfast agreed.

“Well, thank you for the cake. I’ll make some shortbread to send to you over there.”

“That’s alright. My Bell said we ought to send you something with the card. I thought it was a bit weird sending a cake through the post, but she insisted.”

“Well, you can tell her it’s delicious.”

After a few more exchanged words, they parted ways so Hamfast could get back to planning the flower arrangements for Lobelia’s upcoming wedding.

He spent the rest of that morning making Hamfast’s shortbread before going through his Christmas list to see who he still hadn’t gotten presents for yet. He’d gotten Dis a new microwave (she still hadn’t gotten in replaced from the time Kili stuffed four forks in there just to see what would happen), he got Oin a book of Freud, Bombur a set of new kitchen knives, Gloin a whetstone for his collection of swords and axes, Bofur a whittling designs handbook, Bifur a new pair of running shoes, and for Kili he got a signed photo of the Doctor Who lady he fancied. For Fili he got one of those rain sticks, which he was sure he’d delight in using to annoy Thrandy. He’d gotten Nori a Swiss knife he’d been swooning over for some time, Dori a tea set, Ori a new set of crochet hooks, Dwalin one of those dreadful looking knitted hats that Ori liked making him wear and Balin a new case for his iPhone. To be honest, the amount of presents he’d needed to buy had sent him poor as a pauper.

Frerin and Thorin, as usual, were the worst people to buy gifts for. Dis had agreed with him when he’d brought it up with her.

_“They say ‘oh, anything’s fine’, when you ask, and you’re like ‘well, can you be more specific? I really have no idea what you want’. But they just don’t give you any help at all. It’s ridiculous.”_ She’d said, looking as irritated as Bilbo felt.

Maybe he _would_ go down to Flappers and see if they had any gift cards. Or, he supposed, he could just get Frerin alcohol: the go-to gift for people who had no idea what to get others for Christmas. Or he could just stick thirty pounds to a card with a note saying ‘one free lap dance’. Was thirty enough? He wasn’t exactly well-versed in the knowledge of lap dancing.

He scratched his head, looking at the list in hand.

Even if he gave Frerin the money, he still had to worry about Thorin. He had no idea what to get him.

It had to be something practical, something useful and thoughtful and, well… perfect. Because everyone was telling him Thorin’s gift for him _was_ perfect, and awesome and wonderful and many, many other promising adjectives that made Bilbo eager to find out what it was.

Usually he was excited for the Christmas season, but right now he just wanted to bang his head against the wall.

Repeatedly.

In time to _Ding Dong Merrily on High_.

So he messaged Bofur desperately. **_Need help. What 2 get for Thorin for Xmas??_**

**_A bottle of chill pills?_** came the reply.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. **_What did you get him??_** he sent.

**_Gift card. U should get him one of those aprons that have a busty lady on them._ **

**_Not sure he’d appreciate that. What does he even like??_ **

The reply came back almost instantly. **_Uv been dating for how long?_** Derision was basically dripping from the words.

**_For the life of me I just can’t think of anything to get him._ **

**_What’d u get for his birthday?_ **

Bilbo didn’t reply with the real answer, because it wasn’t appropriate and Bofur didn’t need to hear that anyway. **_Not exactly family friendly._**

Bofur didn’t reply for some time, but eventually, another message came through. **_Ok I’m stuck ur totally screwed gotta get back to work now message u later._**

Bilbo just sent back a **_fuck_** and threw his phone onto the couch in frustration.

“If only I could give him an I.O.U or something- oh!” And then he had an idea. An awesome idea. A very spectacularly awesome idea.

At least, he thought so. “Paper and pens,” he muttered to himself, rifling through the desk against the far wall. “Perfect.” He declared, yanking them out and getting to work.

 

* * *

 

“So how was your date?” Bilbo asked later that night as Dis dished up dinner that night. Because Thorin had gone for the last few days, she’d insisted Bilbo stay over at least one night so he had some company (much to Kili and Fili’s delight, of course).

Dis smiled. “Yeah, it was… really good, actually. It didn’t start off too well. He said he hated kids and then I had to say I had two of them, which was _super_ awkward, but afterwards we hit it off really well.”

Bilbo found himself frowning. “How can you not like kids?”  As if by way of explanation, both boys came running into the kitchen now, screaming. “Okay,” he sighed, “I stand corrected.”

Dis laughed before shushing them both and setting them down at the table. “You remember the rule?” she asked now.

“We shouldn’t be talking during meal time,” Fili recited, “because our mouths should be preoccupied with eating.”

“Good, now dig in.” She gestured to the pasta in front of them, and both boys dived in without any more prodding. Surprisingly enough, the boys didn’t actually speak for most of dinner. Dis was more surprised than Bilbo was about that.

“I’m better at this whole parenting thing then I’d originally thought.” She joked, making mugs of cocoa so the boys would wind down before bed. They were so wound down, in fact, that they were all but asleep by bedtime, which, Bilbo had to admit, was a new one for him.

“Warm milk always makes them tired.” Dis explained as they carried the boys upstairs.

“Makes me tired too,” he commented, following her into their room.

“Will you read to us tonight, Bilbo?” Fili yawned, wriggling slightly as his mother set him down on his bed and pulled the covers up around his chest.

“Well, alright. If you’d like.” It’d probably make him sleepy, too, so he decided it was a good idea. “What do you want me to read? And do not say A Song of Ice and Fire,” he pointed to Kili when he sleepily opened his mouth. “Here, why don’t I just read this one?” he grabbed the first book off the shelf he could find. “The Cat in the Hat.”

“M’kay,” Kili relaxed into his pillows, eyes closing.

He got through the first two pages before they were both snoring, and he yawned, getting to his feet and rubbing his tired eyes.

He was definitely going to be dead to the world tonight as soon as he hit the covers.

 

 


	6. December 10th

They watched The Grinch three times that morning, before Bilbo could barely take anymore and begged them to watch something different.

“Die Hard!” Kili announced, bouncing on the sofa.

“Dis Hard isn’t a Christmas movie,” Bilbo countered slowly.

“Yes, it is,” Kili argued. “It’s the _ultimate_ Christmas movie.”

“It’s Christmas _in_ the movie,” Fili added. “That counts.”

Bilbo made a face. “I don’t want to watch Die Hard,” he whined.

“Then we can just watch The Grinch again.” Fili announced with a sly grin.

“No, no, please!”

So Fili agreed that they could maybe watch Arthur Christmas if Bilbo told them what gift he was getting Thorin.

“Why you opportunistic little-” he broke off before he could say something rude that he’d regret later. “You know what? No more movies,” he announced, turning the television off.

Fili and Kili started to whine.

“But we can’t go outside-” Fili began.

“-it’s too cold!” Kili finished.

“Well, then we can stay in and do something.”

“I’m not playing Scrabble again.” Kili announced sullenly, pouting. “If Hibbyjib isn’t a word I don’t wanna play.”

Fili grinned. “You just say that because you suck at Scrabble.”

“Shut up!” Kili squealed unhappily. “I do not!”

“Oh, enough of that. We can do something else. How about I get your mothers craft box and we can make some homemade Christmas cards for the others?”

Fili looked unimpressed. “Lame,” he huffed.

“I like that idea _ways_ better than Scrabble.” Kili declared. “Let’s do that.”

So Bilbo got the box of craft stuff, despite Fili’s protests and set it all up at the table. And, despite all the whinging, Fili actually enjoyed it. Not that he’d admit it, of course.

“This is still lame,” he said, after looked delighted when Bilbo showed him how to make a 3D tree on the inside of the card.

“Look, I made a reindeer!” Kili pushed his card in front of Bilbo to show him his latest creation.

“Oh, _that’s_ what it is.” Bilbo _had_ been wondering. “That’s lovely, Kili.”

“Uncle Bilbo,” Fili said now, dabbing glue on his card.

“Yes, Fili?”

“When are we going to get Smaugly back?”

“I thought it was Pugly or something?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Kili informed him. “Is he okay in the pound? You did visit him, didn’t you? You said you’d visit him-”

“I did, Kili. He’s fine. No one’s picked him up yet.” Both the boys looked far too eager for Bilbo’s liking. “You know you have to talk to your mother about it. She’s the one who makes the decisions, not me.”

“But you could talk to her, right?” Fili wanted to know. “Tell her that Smaugly is a nice guy.”

Bilbo laughed, mainly because Smaugly or Pugly (or whatever they were going to call him) didn’t really _look_ like that nice of a guy. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t get too excited. Someone might pick him up.”

“Nope,” Fili looked convinced. “He’s a stray, I’m sure of it.”

Bilbo was sure too, but he wasn’t about to let Fili have that win over his mother.

“We’ve gots to have him,” Kili said now, both intense and sincere. “I wrote the letter to Santa and everything!”

“ _Pugly_ is your dream dog?” Dubiousness laced his voice.

Kili grinned. “Uh-huh. He’s perfect.”

“Alright then…” He began to wonder if maybe they should take Kili to the optometrists for an eye check.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, well, look who’s getting into the spirit!” He said later that afternoon when he found Thranduil unhappily hanging decorations out front of Elrond’s house.

Thranduil frowned at him. “I was coerced into it and I am getting no enjoyment from this.”

“Of course, of course,” Bilbo put his hands up in a sign of peace, and shared a grin with Elrond, who was putting lights up around the windows. “Well, it looks lovely.”

Elrond smiled. “Thank you. You’re off home then, I assume?”

“Oh, yes. Lots to do. I’ll see you. Good luck with the decorating.”

Thranduil grumbled something in reply, looking more sullen than Bilbo had ever seen him before.

“Looks like we’ve got our very own Scrooge,” he murmured to himself as he pulled his jacket tighter around him and walked off towards home.

When he got there he found a message on his phone from Thorin, telling him he was fine and would be back tomorrow instead of the day after.

He sounded stressed, regardless of his assurances to the contrary. Bilbo briefly considered calling him, but it was getting dark and he didn’t want to interrupt if he was working or even trying to get some much-needed sleep.

So instead he just concentrated on making dinner and sitting in front of the television that didn’t work that they still hadn’t called the repair man about.

He thought about Pugly, or Smugly, or whatever its name was.

He’d always wanted a dog. And the house was awfully quiet sometimes. He probably shouldn’t adopt one without talking to Thorin first, though. Worst welcome home present ever.

‘ _Hello! Good to see you! I got the world’s ugliest dog as our pet!_ ’

That would not go down well.

Besides, Thorin wasn’t really all that keen on animals. Not that he hated them; he just never really got along with them. They’d gone to the Zoo with Fili and Kili a few months ago and one of the monkeys had thrown leaves at him and screeched until they left. Thorin wasn’t impressed, but the rest of them were laughing about it for most of the day.

Fili often called him Monkey Man now, much to Thorin’s irritation.

The wind was picking up outside now, rushing against the windows and roof, making the trees in the yard creak and groan. Bilbo sighed and let the boredom settle in.

He definitely needed a dog.

 

 


	7. December 11th

He saw Thranduil again that morning, after sending off a Christmas card and shortbread to Hamfast and Bell to thank them. He’d paused on the pathway, watching the tall man quietly argue with a young man at his side. He had similar long, blonde hair to his father, and both were pulling the same discomforted face.

“Thranduil,” Bilbo waved at him, probably knowing this wasn’t the time to say hello. Thranduil looked up and across the road, and waved politely in Bilbo’s direction before gesturing for the boy to follow him into the bakery.

“Oh, dear,” he murmured to himself, “family problems.” He had heard a few nights ago, Thranduil talking to Elrond over the fence about his son Legolas not wanting to spend Christmas down here. Instead he’d wanted to stay in Cambridge with his friends. Thranduil was having none of that.

Upon arriving home, he noticed Thorin’s car parked out the front, and when he entered he could hear movement in the bedroom. He found Thorin frowning into his travel case which sat open on the bed.

He caught sight of Bilbo and smiled, but it was strained.

“I want a dog,” was the first thing he said to him.

Thorin looked confused. “I… well, alright then.”

“I just thought I should tell you,” Bilbo leant against the doorframe. “You know, so we could talk about it. Fili and Kili found this dreadful mangy thing on the street and wanted to keep it, but Dis doesn’t like the idea. Kili’s got his heart set on it, though, so I thought maybe we could take it in for them.”

“They’ve got more room.” Thorin muttered absently, sorting through his clothes with a furrow in his brow. “And a bigger back yard.”

“I suppose so, yes. So you don’t think we should adopt it?”

Thorin glanced up, looking tired and a little irritated. “I’m sorry, I just…” he ran a hand over his face. “I’m exhausted. And in quite a bad mood.”

Bilbo smiled. “It’s fine,” he said, moving closer. He stopped in front of him and leant up on the tips of his toes to kiss him hello. “We can talk about it later,” he murmured into his lips.

Thorin hummed an agreement.

“I just thought you’d like a bit of banal conversation before I asked how your trip was. You know, working up to it.”

Thorin chuckled. “It was fine. You know, a bit uneventful. I, uh…” He frowned. “Well, actually-” he broke off and coughed awkwardly.

“Yes?” Bilbo prodded.

“Well, it’s just… I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Thorin looked a little sheepish. “I wasn’t in London for business.”

Bilbo felt a furrow work its way between his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he wondered.

“It’s just…” he looked hesitant to say it, like he didn’t really want to talk about it, but needed to. Eventually, he worked the words out through gritted teeth. “A friend from London called a little while ago, and- uh, they told me that they read in the papers that Azog got arrested again.”

“Arrested?” Bilbo asked. _Again_? Could the man not keep himself out of trouble for five seconds? “What’d he do this time?”

Thorin just shrugged. “The usual,” he replied dryly. “He was driving without a license and he was drunk and he crashed into a car with a mother and two kids inside.” His voice cracked a little on the last few words.

Bilbo felt his stomach drop. “Oh, God.”

“One of the-” he broke off, clearing his throat, “One of the kids died. They put him on trial. I knew he wasn’t going to get away with killing a kid. No matter who his dad is. I, uh… I wanted to…” he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before speaking again. “I just needed to-”

Bilbo put a hand on his chest. “You should have told me,” he said gently. “I could have gone with you.”

Thorin shook his head. “I think I just needed to go alone,” he explained. “You know, get some closure or something.”

Bilbo hesitated before asking. “What was the verdict?”

Thorin answered without inflection. “Seven years.”

It wasn’t nearly enough. But it was a start. “At least he’ll be off the road for a while.”

Thorin nodded before running a hand down his face. “At least he didn’t walk like last time.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “I need a drink.”

Bilbo smiled. “I can do that. You finish unpacking and I’ll get you something.”

He was almost out of the room when Thorin called for him again. “Bilbo,” he began.

Bilbo paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Thorin. “Yes?”

“If you wanted to adopt him,” he said now, shrugging, “I don’t mind.”

Bilbo smiled. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” They wouldn’t talk about it tomorrow. They’d more than likely forget.

Thorin relaxed a little. “Yeah, okay.”

He went in the kitchen and poured a good measure of whiskey out into glasses before returning to the room and pressing one into Thorin’s hand.

“I have good news.” He announced as they sat beside each other on the bed, quietly drinking.

“You’re pregnant?” Thorin wondered, and Bilbo slapped him playfully. “So, good news, then?” Thorin prodded, shifting so he was facing Bilbo fully, leaning against the pillows.

“Yes, it is.” Bilbo grinned. “I finally know what I’m getting you for Christmas.”

“Ah, that is…” Thorin took a large swig, finishing the last of his drink. “That’s great.” He set the empty glass down on the bedside table.

“Here,” Bilbo handed him what was left of his own drink. “You need it more than I do.”

Thorin took it without protest and drained it in one go as well, putting it beside the other glass. “Come here,” he reached out now, grabbing hold of Bilbo’s arms and dragging him forward onto his lap.

Thorin’s mouth was warm and tasted like the whiskey he’d just downed. Bilbo leaned into the kiss, fingers curling into Thorin’s shirt. It was a slow and lazy and tired and more than a little inebriated kind of kiss, but Bilbo didn’t mind.

Thorin pulled away eventually and leaned back, hitting the headboard a little roughly, though he didn’t seem to notice. He closed his eyes, looking far more relaxed that he’d been when Bilbo had first come inside.

“Missed you,” he murmured lethargically, his arms falling to his sides sluggishly.

Bilbo grinned. “I missed you, too,” he replied, before climbing off him moving to finish unpacking the last of Thorin’s case.

 

 


	8. December 12th

“ _Bofur_!” Fili and Kili all but threw themselves at him when he showed up on Bilbo’s doorstep.

“’ello, boys!” Bofur ruffled their hair.

“You’re early!” Kili cried with delight.

“I am, yes. You know how I like a surprising entrance.” He looked up at Bilbo and grinned. “Hi,” he looked a little cautious, but Bilbo supposed that was because he’d just showed up uninvited to Bilbo’s house. Not that Bilbo minded in the least.

“What are you doing here?” he asked him now. It was a pleasant surprise, of course, but it was still a surprise. Bofur wasn’t supposed to be here until the 20th. At least, that was what he’d told him last time they’d spoken.

“I know, I know,” Bofur put his hands up, not even bothering to try and detach the boys from his legs. “I’m early. That’s why I’m here and not at Dis’. Thought I’d come and catch up. I should have known you’d have the boys for the day.”

“Well, come in,” Bilbo gestured for him to come down the hall. “And you two better get off him now, so he can walk.”

The boys begrudgingly obeyed.

“Wish I had that kind of authority about me,” Bofur told him now, following him into the kitchen, “they never do anything I ask them to.” He peered about. “Thorin?”

“Taking a phone call out the back. The boys were a little too noisy for his liking.”

“Ah,” Bofur grinned, understanding completely. “Speaking of Thorin, ‘ow’s your… er, little gift dilemma?”

“Oh, all sorted.”

“Yeah?” Bofur looked pleased. “Good for you. Now comes the important question,” Bofur leant in, as if whispering a secret. “What’d you get me?”

Bilbo laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you just yet. You’re going to have to wait like everyone else.”

Bofur didn’t look surprised by the answer he’d gotten. “Pity,” he sighed.

“What did you get me, Uncle Bofur?” Fili demanded.

“And me!” Kili added. “My present is better than Fili’s isn’t it?”

“Is not! My present is better than yours.”

“If you’re going to argue, do it in the living room please.” Bilbo informed them both. “I’ve still got a headache from your rendition of Winter Wonderland.”

Bofur repressed a laugh. “Poor thing,” he said now, watching the boys leave, “they always like to get started early when it comes to carolling.”

“I found that out the hard way.” Bilbo muttered. “Drink?”

“I’d love one,” he leant forwards again, grinning. “Perhaps something with a little bit of Christmas Cheer in it, if you get my meaning,” he added, rubbing his hands together.

“So why are you here early?” Bilbo asked while he rooted through his cupboards. “Not that we’re not pleased, of course. But you said you weren’t able to get too much time off, what with the new store opening and everything.”

Bofur shrugged. “Got a co-partner,” he informed Bilbo, sounding smug.

“Oh, really?” Bofur had been struggling with the work load for some time, and he had mentioned last time he visited that he was thinking about getting someone to help out.

“Yeah. Last month t’ey came on board. T’ey’re super organised so we got everything done faster than I thought it’d be. You know, two ‘ands being better than one, and all that. And they can look after the business up until Christmas Eve because ‘er family’s up there. Win-win situation.”

They could hear the boys yelling now, obviously relaying the news to Thorin, who had come back in from the cold now. He came into the kitchen, frowning in confusion.

“I didn’t think you were coming until the 20th,” he said, looking Bofur up and down.

“What? I can’t come early to spend some quality time with my family?”

Thorin rolled his eyes and sat down. “What’s he making?” he asked Bofur, nodding in Bilbo’s direction.

“Something with Christmas Cheer,” Bofur announced.

“I think I’ll need one of those, too, then.”

“Bad phone call?” Bilbo wondered now.

“They’re all bad.” Thorin replied, rolling his shoulders. “Everyone always gets stressed during the holidays. It results in a lot of angry conversations.” He turned to Bofur now, cheering up marginally. “Have you seen Frerin yet?”

“No, why?”

“He’s growing a beard,” Bilbo explained, setting three mugs of Irish Hot Chocolate down on the table. “It’s… uh, quite stupendous.”

Bofur started laughing. “Oh, I’m going to need to take photos of this. There will be serious blackmail potential for that in a few years time.” Bofur paused, a mischievous smile crawling over his face. “So, has Thorin given you any hints about your Christmas present yet?” Before Bilbo could reply he saw Thorin stiffen and Bofur jumped in pain. “Hey!” he whined.

Obviously Thorin had kicked him under the table.

“No,” Bilbo informed him. “He hasn’t. And I’m not giving him hints about his either.”

“Too bad,” Bofur was still grinning, despite being kicked in the shins by his annoyed cousin. “It’s a good present.”

“I never doubted that,” Bilbo replied. “And you should stop stirring the pot. You’re only going to get smacked up the back of the head.”

Bofur shrugged, reaching for his mug. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

 


	9. December 13th

Bilbo was well and truly sick of Christmas Carols by now. And he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one.

“God, please, no more.” Bofur whined, hitting his head against the wall. “Can’t we do something else? Why don’t we watch a movie? Or go play outside, or _something_? Just _please, no more carols_.”

The boys seemed to consider it. “If you gives us ten pounds we’ll stop.”

Bilbo had heard _that one_ before.

Bofur’s eyes widened. “You opportunistic little bastards.”

“That’s what I said when they did it to me,” Bilbo informed him.

The boys burst into laughter and began to sing Sleigh Ride.

“Alright, alright!” Bofur hastily reached for his pocket. “I’ll pay you a tenner.”

“Ten _each_ ,” Fili corrected, “or we’ll sing extra loud.”

“Monsters,” Bofur breathed now in shock, looking slightly impressed. “Leech-like monsters in the form of children.”

 Kili giggled; gratefully snatching up the money he was offered. “Thank you, Uncle Bofur.” He grinned toothily.

“That won’t work, boy,” Bofur pointed a finger at him. “I’ve seen the evil that lurks beneath now.”

“Why aren’t you two outside anyway?” Bilbo asked, looking over at them from the couch. “Dis said you were out there this morning, but you haven’t been out since.”

“Too cold,” Fili said simply, looking intently at the ten pounds he’d just been given.

Bilbo didn’t believe him one bit. “Have you been up to no good again?” he wanted to know. Both boys just smiled looking a little too innocent for it to be genuine. “Hmph,” Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest.

He’d find out later, no doubt.

 

* * *

 

Dis suggested (after about ten minutes of the boys trying to climb the walls after dinner) that seeing as it was dark, they should go and take a look at the Christmas lights people had put up on their houses. The boys eagerly agreed, rushing to grab their coats and boots and scarves and gloves.

“Have they been acting odd today?” Dis asked Bilbo as they ran about. “Or is it just me?”

“Not just you,” Bilbo replied, pulling on his jacket. “I noticed it, too. Think they found the Christmas presents or something?”

“Impossible. I put them high up so they couldn’t reach them, not even with a chair.”

“Maybe they put cookies in toaster again.”

“God, please no.” Dis groaned. “I cannot afford to buy _another_ toaster. If they ruin any more appliances I’m going to sell their toys for proceeds to go to replacements.”

“That might actually stop them,” he thought about it for a minute. “Maybe,” he said after a long, considering pause.

The houses were all lovely. Brightly lit up and shining, some even had Christmas music playing along to the light show, which Bilbo had never seen before. The boys looked astounded by every house, jumping and clapping and demanding they go further down the road even though it was getting late and very, _very_ cold.

Eventually, they relented, tired and frozen. “Alright,” Kili sighed. “We can go home now.”

“You’ll be little popsicles if we stayed out any longer,” Bofur joked, picking him up and carrying him on his back.

“I want a piggy-back, too!” Fili cried, and was then hauled up by Frerin.

Thorin glanced over at Bilbo now. “I’m not giving you a piggy-back,” he announced.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Spoilsport,” he retorted.

When they got back to their street they found Thranduil standing atop the porch, pacing, waiting for them to arrive.

“About bloody time,” he snapped, coming to a stop at the top of the stairs and looking down at them on the pathway.

“Is there a problem, Thranduil?” Dis asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes there bloody is. Those damn brats of yours are the problem!”

“Whoa there,” Bofur put his hands up, as if urging him to slow down. “You might want to keep your voice down. Don’t want the whole street to ‘ear, do we?”

“Maybe I do,” Thrandy snapped. “Maybe I want the whole world to hear!”

“What happened?” Bilbo asked now. Thranduil was _really_ mad. “What did they do?”

“This afternoon I was out the back having a smoke and those little monsters started throwing water bombs at me from the trees! I nearly froze on the bloody spot!”

Bofur burst into laughter for a good few seconds before clamping his hands over his mouth to stop the sound. Frerin was managing to smother his own paroxysms, but looked like it wouldn’t last all that long.

“Oh, dear.”

Fili was now hiding behind one of Frerin’s legs, Kili taking refuge behind the other.

“Well,” Dis said now, throwing her boys a glare. “Both boys will be dealt with accordingly. You can-”

“Maybe,” Thranduil cut in now, “if you looked after your kids a bit more rather than running off with different men this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Thorin started to stalk forward, but Bilbo caught his hand, stopping him. Frerin was dealing with it, anyway.

“Alright Frosty the Snowman,” Frerin came up the stairs, “we’ll deal with it, but don’t you start dogging on my sisters parenting skills, because you are going to have a very hard time leaving _that_ conversation unscathed.”

Thranduil straightened up. “You wouldn’t dare hit me.”

Frerin just raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re sure about that?”

Thranduil seemed to hesitate.

“You should leave, Thranduil,” Bilbo suggested now. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

Thrandy huffed. “Fine,” he spat. “I’ll go. But if this happens again I _will_ be calling the police.”

Bofur started laughing again.

“What do you find so funny?” Thrandy snapped.

 “Ah, nothing. Just uh…” he pointed to the rafters above Thranduil and Frerin, where a sprig of mistletoe was attached. Bilbo had put it there himself not a few days ago.

Thranduil looked disgusted, but before he could open his mouth to say so, Frerin grabbed him by the shoulders and dipped him, smacking their lips together.

The group collectively let out an _“Oh!”_ at the sight, watching as Thranduil managed to claw his way back onto his feet and push Frerin off of him. He stalked down the stairs, pushing past Bofur, ignoring the wolf whistles.

“Thanks for that!” Frerin called after his retreating figure.

“Frerin,” Dis groaned a hand on her face. “Was that really necessary?”

“Its mistletoe,” Frerin shrugged, as if that explained everything. “Tradition.”

Fili and Kili were still squealing in amusement.

“And you two!” Dis took hold of their shoulders and led them up the stairs, cutting their enjoyment short. “You are in so much trouble, I swear to God.”

“Not as much trouble as Frerin when Thranduil calls the cops.” Bofur snorted, climbing the stairs and slapping him on the back. “You always choose the most annoying ones.”

“You’re just jealous they like me better than you!” Frerin called, following him inside.

“No one likes you,” Bilbo heard Bofur reply. “The beard makes it impossible.”

 

 


	10. December 14th

Elrond answered the door when Bilbo knocked on it early the next morning. “Hello, Elrond.”

“Bilbo,” Elrond seemed surprised. “Do you need something?”

“I was wondering if I could speak to Thranduil. Is he here?”

“Yes. Yes. Out back,” Elrond pulled the door open further. “Come in.”

Elrond’s house was flashy and open, lots of archways without doors and wide, long rooms. He had a few decorations up on the walls, but not a whole lot.

“I’ll leave you to talk,” he paused in the living room, gesturing to the large sliding doors that lead out to the back.

“Thank you,” Bilbo told him before heading outside. Bilbo found Thranduil smoking near the pool, glaring up at the sky.

“Wishing it was summer?” Bilbo wondered.

Thrandy jumped a little, looking surprised. “Not over the fence this time, then?”

Bilbo shrugged. “I thought it’d be best if I apologised in your house rather than over a pile of wood.”

“Apologise?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, for Frerin. From one victim of surprise kisses to another, believe me when I say I get that it isn’t always a pleasant experience.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes. “And here I was thinking I was special.”

Bilbo laughed. “So I am sorry about that. He just doesn’t get what’s socially acceptable on most occasions.”

Thranduil opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off by someone else.

“ _Bilbo_!” He turned to find two little heads peeking over the fence. “What are you doing over _there_?”

“How are you looking over the fence?” Bilbo asked them now, frowning in confusion.

“Me!” he heard Bofur announce, and the boy shifted for a moment, clinging onto the fence while a hand stuck up and waved.

Bilbo laughed. “That is not going to end well.” He turned to Thranduil. “I’m sorry; I’d better get over there and…”

Thranduil waved it off. “Of course.” He was frowning in the direction of the boys. “So long as there are no water balloons involved, it’s fine.”

Fili and Kili were direction stern glares at him when he returned, and they sat him down on the couch to give him a talking-to.

“You shouldn’t go over there.” Fili informed him, hands on his hips. He looked surprisingly like Dis like that. “And if you have to we should go with you.”

“I don’t think Thranduil would appreciate that. Not unless you were going to apologise to him.”

Kili rolled his eyes. “Why would we apologise?” he grinned. “It was awesome!”

There was a loud knock on the door to the tune of We Wish You a Merry Christmas.

Both the boys turned to each other, faces lighting up. “Ori!” they cried together, running towards the front door.

“Ori does it every year when ‘e comes ‘round.” Bofur explained, shrugging.

Bilbo laughed.

The first thing Ori did was coming into the living room and drop a large bag onto the sofa next to Bilbo. “Gifts,” he explained in a hushed whisper, but the boys heard him anyway.

“Presents!” they dived into the bag, nosily searching through the wrapped packages, as if they could tell what their gifts would be just from looking at the shape.

Ori rolled his eyes as Dwalin came in, sneezing. “We’ve got a bit of a cold.” He explained. “So you’d better not give any hugs and especially no mistletoe kisses!” He raised his voice, so Frerin could hear.

“You heard about that, huh?” Bilbo asked now.

“Yeah,” Dwalin collapsed onto the chair by the fire. “Dis called us last night to tell us. I have to admit, it was kind of worth getting woken up at eleven at night to hear about it.” He blew his nose. “ _Kind of_.”

“I asked Dis to make your favourite for lunch,” Ori told his partner gently. “Chicken soup. So you’ll feel much better once we’re settled in.”

Dwalin looked pleased.

Thorin came over after finishing his work for the day and they all sat down for lunch after Dis pulled the spare table out of the basement so they could all sit together.

_“Christmas Eve and Day we’ll move them into the living room,” Dis had explained while he helped her wipe the table down. “There’s a lot more space in there.”_

“Alright,” Dis said at lunch, shushing them all. “I have an announcement.” She waited until she had their full attention before continuing. “After speaking to Bilbo about it,” she nodded in his direction as she spoke, “I have decided that we will adopt Pugly _if_ ,” she continued when the boys began to cheer, “he isn’t adopted already by the twentieth, _and_ if you both behave yourself and do not play any more pranks on Thranduil.”

The boys looked briefly torn before agreeing readily to the terms.

Lunch was nice, but Thorin was hardly impressed when he heard about the conversation he’d had with Thranduil, and they’d argued about it later that night.

“I’m allowed to talk to whoever I want, alright?” Bilbo had said, throwing his arms out.

Thorin looked highly irritated, to which he had no right to be. “Not to him you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, are you my boss or something? I didn’t realise you could decide what I did with my time. You’re behaving like a child.”

“I am not behaving like a child,” Thorin snapped in reply. “You know how this family feels about Thranduil.”

“I apologised on Frerin’s behalf because he leapt on the man and made out with him, without his permission,” he continued now, “might I add.”

“Then Frerin should have apologised himself.”

“Oh, come on, we both know your brother would never apologise for something like that. I was just being polite. You’re making this out to be much worse than it really is.”

They continued on like that for some time, back and forth, snapping at each other, until finally, Bilbo threw his hands up, unable to take anymore.

“You know what?” he said now, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. “I’m not going to talk about this with you. I’m not going to argue. You can sleep on the couch if you want to continue being ridiculous.” And with that he went into his bedroom and shut the door, effectively ending the conversation. Well… not unless Thorin felt like yelling through the door, which was probably a possibility.

But he didn’t do that tonight. Instead he left Bilbo alone in the room, stubbornly refusing to apologise or leave well enough alone.

“Silly man,” Bilbo muttered as he got ready for bed.

 

 


	11. December 15th

They didn’t talk about it in the morning, and Bilbo left Thorin to mope in his study in favour of getting some food with Bofur at the shops.

“You look tired,” Bofur said casually as they were jostled by a violent elderly lady with an overstuffed trolley.

“Slept terribly last night,” Bilbo yawned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thorin and I had an argument, so-”

“An argument?” Bofur demanded, looking alarmed. “What about?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Thranduil.” He paused. “It’s nothing, I’ll talk to him about it later and we’ll get over it. Why are you so concerned?”

“It’s just… you know, so close to Christmas. You shouldn’t be fighting right now.”

“Yes, well, it’s hardly my fault. He was acting stupid. I mean, I know he doesn’t like Thranduil-”

“No one does.”

“But that doesn’t mean he gets to act like an insolent son of a-”

“He always is.”

Bilbo sighed. “He told me I couldn’t talk to Thranduil anymore. Who does that?”

“Thorin,” Bofur answered.

“And I don’t even talk to him that much. He’s only ever really around during the holidays.”

“Thranduil and Thorin have always hated each other,” Bofur told him. “It’s not you. They just never liked one another. In fact, none of us really like one another. I mean, Elrond’s alright. But those Greenleaf’s are just…” he made a face. “You get my point.”

“Am I the one being unreasonable?” Bilbo asked now.

“Of course not!” Bofur laughed, throwing some broccoli into the trolley. “He can’t exactly start ordering you who to see and not see. He’s not the bloody King, is he?”

Bilbo relaxed a little. “Right. Yes. Exactly,” he grabbed some apples. “Thank you. He’s being stupid.”

“He’ll get over it,” he assured Bilbo now. “You know what he’s like. Stubborn and all that.”

Bilbo sighed. “Believe me, I know.”

 

* * *

 

Fili and Kili were actually _cleaning their rooms_ when Bilbo showed up at the house with Bofur after shopping, which was more than a little weird.

“What the hell is going on?” Bilbo asked, staring at Kili as he put a bunch of empty candy wrappers in the bin and went back upstairs. “Have I just stepped into a parallel universe?”

“They’re behaving so Pugly can come home.” Dis explained, putting the food away.

“Ah.” Bilbo grinned. “Cute. Did you want me to keep an eye on them?”

“Yes, please,” Dis looked exhausted. “I’ve got to get started on this dinner. Gloin and Oin are arriving tonight so I have to cook extra.”

“Alright, I’ve got it.”

Thankfully they weren’t singing Christmas Carols, but they were talking about Christmas lists.

“I should have puts a ray gun on mine,” Kili was whining. “I didn’t think of that.”

“I don’t think Santa is a weapons dealer, so I’d very much doubt you’d get one anyway.” Bilbo said from the doorway. “Besides, you’re getting the puppy you wanted,” Well, Pugly wasn’t a _puppy_ , but he was a _dog_ , and that was close enough. “Isn’t that enough?”

“But _Santa_ didn’t gets it for me. What if he gets me _another_ puppy and then I haves two because I couldn’t get the word to him that I already gots one?” Kili looked so desperately worried that Bilbo found himself holding back laughter.

“Don’t worry,” Bilbo informed him. “I’ll make sure Santa gets the message.”

Kili looked relieved. “You will?”

“Of course. Now get back to fixing your room up. Did you want me to help you fold your clothes?”

Kili nodded. “I can’t fold the shirts.” He said a little angrily. “Fili showed me but I still can’t gets it.”

Fili just rolled his eyes and continued rifling under his bed. “Cool!” He called now. “I found an old sandwich!” He waved it towards Kili. “I dare you to eat it!”

A determined look crossed over Kili’s face that Bilbo knew all too well and he had to hold him back to stop him from grabbing the mouldy bread.

“No you will _not_.” Bilbo declared. “Put that right in the bin now, Fili.”

Fili looked disappointed, but took the rotting food out of the room like Bilbo had requested. 

“I could have totally eaten it, Bilbo.” Kili insisted, looking up at him.

“I know,” Bilbo sighed. “That was what I was worried about.”

Bilbo didn’t stay to see Oin and Gloin. He was far too tired and needed to get home and get some sleep. He always felt tired when he and Thorin argued, and he was pretty sure Thorin felt much the same. Not that either of them would admit it and let the other have the satisfaction. Bilbo was _not_ going to apologise first. Especially not when he didn’t have anything to apologise _for_ in the first place. And Bofur agreed with him, which only solidified his stubbornness even more.

They fought again about it that night, though Bilbo wasn’t really sure what they said to each other. But he got so fed up he just kicked Thorin out the front of the house and slammed the door closed on him, telling him he could just sleep at his sisters tonight if he was going to continue like this.

“Bastard,” he muttered to himself, pacing the living room. “Complete and utter bastard.” He was like that for some time, muttering bitterly and walking around the empty house. He briefly considered going to find Thorin again, but another argument in front of everybody was _not_ what he wanted. Besides, maybe the others could talk some sense into him while he was there for the night. A few stern words and a kick in the pants and hopefully he’d admit he was being bullish and stupid.

Bilbo sighed, throwing himself down onto his bed. _Wishful thinking_.

Knowing Thorin this would go on right up until Christmas Eve before Bilbo was forced to do something to put an end to it.

“Bastard,” he muttered again, yawning and falling into a fitful sleep.

 

 


	12. December 16th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to point out any errors!

He woke up alone, which had him confused for a minute before he remembered booting Thorin out of the house in a rage. He laid there for a moment, rubbing his eyes, when he realised he’d been woken by a phone ringing.

“Oh, dear,” he braced himself for the cold and slipped out from under the covers, darting across the room and down into the kitchen where the phone hung on the wall.

“Hello?” he held it away from his ear, not wanting to feel cold plastic against his face this early in the morning.

“Bilbo!”

“Hamfast, how are you? Did you get my shortbread?”

“I did, yes. It was lovely. Bell says thank you.”

“Good. What did you need?”

“I’m actually calling to cordially invite you on behalf of Lobelia to her wedding.”

Bilbo choked on a laugh. “Oh, my God, really?”

“It is a completely and utterly serious request.”

“Oh, well… I, uh…”

“It’s the day after tomorrow, so I was thinking maybe you could just pop down for two days and say hello to everyone. They’ve all been very curious since I came back from my first visit, you know.”

“Well…” Bilbo hesitated. But then, why was he? He could take two days off. He had the money, and there were people at the house to look after the boys while he was gone. And Thorin… well, Thorin could just get over it. “Actually, it sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“Great!” Hamfast sounded surprised by pleased. “I kind of thought you’d just say no and that’d be that.”

“Well, it’s about time I had a bit of a visit, right?” He’d been thinking a lot about his home town recently, in fact. “And there’s no time like the present.”

“Exactly. You don’t need instructions or anything, right? You know where you’re going?”

“I certainly do,” Bilbo replied with a smile. “Look, I’d better get going, if I want to get packed and sort some other things out.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you go. Sorry about the early all, but it’s just so short notice I figured I’d tell you straight away.”

“That’s alright,” Bilbo assured him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hamfast.”

“You, too!”

He felt lighter as he hung up, even excited.

A change of scenery was definitely what he needed right now.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to Hobbiton for a few days,” he announced at Dis’ house later that afternoon.

She looked at him in surprise, setting her cup down with a clatter. “What?”

Fili looked heartbroken. “No!” he leaned over the kitchen table, grabbing hold of Bilbo’s wrist.

“You can’t, Uncle Bilbo!” Kili cried now, mirroring his brother’s movements.

Bilbo sighed, explaining. “Hamfast has invited me to a friend’s wedding,” he informed Dis, “so I’m going to go.” He grinned at the boys. “I’ll be back by the nineteenth,” he assured them, “so it’s not like I’ll miss anything.”

That didn’t seem to please them at all, but they remained silent.

“Oh, well…” Dis paused for some time before smiling. “That sounds nice. Uh,” she peered through the kitchen and down the hall, as if gauging how much she had to lower her voice so the others didn’t hear her. “But this doesn’t have anything to do with the fight, does it?”

“Of course not.” Bilbo rolled his eyes. “He’s being ridiculous and I’m not allowing it, but I’m not going to run off to my hometown just because we had a fight.”

“You’re mad at Uncle Thorin, Bilbo?” Kili asked now. “Did he do something?”

“He’s behaving childishly,” Bilbo informed him. “He doesn’t like me talking to Thranduil.”

“I don’t like you talking to Thranduil either,” Fili pointed out. “Should we be fighting, too?”

Bilbo laughed. “No, Fili. It’s fine. I’ll talk to him when I get back. Maybe he’ll have cooled down by then.”

Dis shrugged. “Maybe. But he’s very good at holding a grudge.”

“Well, so am I.” Bilbo announced.

She grinned at him.

 

* * *

 

Thorin took it better than expected. “Two days?” he’d asked.

Bilbo had nodded. “Yes. So I’ll be back on the nineteenth. I probably should go anyway, I’m pretty sure Lobelia’s a second cousin twice removed or something.” He waved a hand vaguely. “In fact, almost everyone’s related to each other in that town.”

“Not surprised,” Bofur had injected. “Small towns are rife wit’ inbreeding.”

Gloin burst into laughter, and Oin just stared blankly at the fire, obviously having turned his hearing aid down a long time ago.

“There is _no_ inbreeding.” Bilbo put his hands on his hips. “I don’t appreciate your jokes about it.” But Bofur was smirking at him anyway. “Anyway,” he said now, bringing the conversation back to subject. “I’ll leave early tomorrow morning, and be back early.” He found himself smiling now. “I haven’t been back there for so long,” he mused, “To be honest I’m rather excited about seeing what’s going on.”

“Probably not much,” Bofur joked, and Bilbo slapped his arm. “Ow! Okay, okay! I’ll stop now.”

 

* * *

 

Thorin came home with him that night, but they didn’t talk about it. And Bilbo didn’t have to kick him out of the house, so he took that as a win. They even shared the bed, though they stayed as far away from each other as possible, neither one wanting to swallow their pride and get the fuck over it just yet.

“I’ll call you when I get there in the morning,” Bilbo announced to the darkness. He knew Thorin wasn’t asleep, he could hear him twitch and move every few minutes.

He grunted an affirmation.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I’m putting an embargo on the argument,” he announced suddenly. “Just for now.” He could hear Thorin smile a little. “You could come, too, you know.” He offered. “Hobbiton is really very nice. But I would strictly forbid any more arguments for the time we’re away.”

 “It’s alright,” he replied. “You go and see your friend’s wedding. We can talk when you get back.”

Bilbo pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he agreed eventually. “And we will have words when I get back, when the embargo ends. And they will be loud words.”

“I imagine they will be.”

“ _And_ ,” Bilbo continued. “You will apologise for behaving like an archaic caveman.”

Thorin tensed.

“No buts,” Bilbo cut in before he could speak. “I’m sure your family told you as much. But we’ll talk about that later,” he turned over, pressing his leg against Thorin’s lightly. “And then we’ll have the usual absolutely hot make-up sex.”

Thorin choked a laugh, smothering it with his pillow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I don't know if I'll be updating tomorrow- I'm out and very busy. So if I don't upload the chapter tomorrow, I will upload two chapters on the day after to make up for it. But if I do manage to upload the chapter tomorrow, obviously you won't have to worry about all that (just so you know). Cheers!


	13. December 17th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! I actually got around to uploading this chapter today. Yay!

He left before sunrise, much to his own irritation, and began the four hour drive North West to Hobbiton. He didn’t wake Thorin up, but he did leave him a note. Nothing special, because the embargo on the argument had been dropped again and they were back to pointedly ignoring each other.

He arrived in Hobbiton at about ten, yawning and navigating his way through the winding cobblestone streets and to Hamfast’s house. It had been his fathers, passed down to him recently, and Bilbo remembered the bright yellow door, running past it or pushing it open to find Hamfast when he was younger.

“Bilbo!” Bell looked wonderful, her bright curly hair falling around her heart-shaped face and her prettily painted lips spread into a warm and wide welcoming smile. She pulled him into a bear hug. “Oh, I’m just so glad you could make it. Come in,” she pulled him inside and led him towards the kitchen. “Now you must be hungry, getting here so early!”

This was the way in Hobbiton: twelve meals a day. Food was one of the most important aspects of the town, and there were more than enough celebrations based around it.

“I’ve got cakes and pies and cookies and freshly made bread, and some fruit, I suppose, if you want that. Or I could make pancakes, or even bacon. Hamfast got some from the butcher’s just yesterday. Hamfast!” she yelled now, “Come inside and say hello! Bilbo’s here!”

He could hear garden tools clinking outside and the side door from the kitchen to the backyard opened and Hamfast came in, pulling off gardening gloves to offer his hand.

“Good to see you!” he crushed Bilbo’s hand by accident, but Bilbo didn’t say anything. “You’re looking well. Eating enough? Has Bell offered you something to eat?”

“Of course I have,” she swatted his shoulder and turned to Bilbo, rolling her eyes. “So what did you fancy, Bilbo?”

“Oh, I think just a cup of tea for me. The ride made me feel a little ill, so I don’t think I should have anything to eat just yet.”

“Oh, of course. Nice Earl Grey with a bit of lemon: it’ll perk you right up.” She bustled about the kitchen.

“Why don’t I show you the garden,” Hamfast offered, “while Bell is putting the kettle on?”

Bilbo smiled. “Sure.”

The garden was the pride of any Gamgee, and you could see why. They were always neatly kept and ordered, tended to with love and care and an infinite patience Bilbo could never have for plants. He’d tried growing tomatoes once, and had ended up just letting the thing die in frustration. For which he felt instantly guilty about the next day when Hamfast had come over and seen it, instantly upset. _“You’ve got to take care of it!” He’d insisted, trying to help the poor thing. “What a mess you’ve made.”_

Bilbo was never one for gardening.

“It’s all coming through very nicely,” Hamfast was saying now, though Bilbo had no idea what he was talking about.

“It’s very lovely,” he replied, looking at the long rows of dirt where sprigs of something were coming through. “I didn’t know you could grow things in the winter.”

“Depends on what it is,” Hamfast informed him as Bell came out with a large mug of Earl Grey.

“Oh, thank you,” he gratefully accepted the mug, inhaling deeply and enjoying the smell of citrus. “So how’s the planning for the wedding?”

“Insane.” Hamfast sighed. “I’ll be working on it all day today, you could help if you’d like? Well,” he continued now, “if you’re settled in enough, that is.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Bilbo informed him. “I’d love to help.”

“Great,” Hamfast grinned, “we could use an extra pair of hands, if we’re being honest. It’s all hands on deck this last day.”

“So long as you keep me away from Lobelia and I don’t get yelled at- I’ll be fine.”

They both laughed at him. “Don’t know if I can stop _that_ from happening. To be honest, she’s a bit like a force of a nature. Impossible to stop once she gets going.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Lobelia had been very memorable in High School. She was loud and angry almost all the time, and had a tendency for stealing people’s jewellery. “Did she ever return that watch she took from Mister Matthews?” Bilbo wondered now, looking at the greyish sky, thoughtful.

Hamfast snorted. “Doubt it.”

“Well. It’s certainly nice to be back. For now, anyway. I’m sure I’ll change my mind within the next few hours.”

 

* * *

 

Turns out Lobelia had already been married once before. Bilbo was surprised, and then he wasn’t. After all, she had been engaged to Jobel Myers when he’d left for Brighton. Or at least, that was what she’d told everyone when Bilbo had gone.

Of course she couldn’t really get married outside, not unless she was insane, so they were setting up the community hall. It did look lovely, flowers and wreaths all over the place and white balloons all along the roof (or, at least, they’d be there tomorrow before the wedding took place). As annoying as Lobelia was, Bilbo had to admit, she did have taste.

For the afternoon he helped some of the others finish the hand-painted banner saying ‘congratulations’ that’d be hung near the door. He heard all the usual gossip: this person was sleeping with this person, or this person had broken up with this person, or this person had been seen buying cigarettes after announcing they were quitting a week ago, or this person was pregnant, that sort of thing. There was a lot of tongue clicking and _‘Can you believe that?_ ’ being repeated occasionally.

Everyone he met said the same thing. _“Oh, it’s so nice to see you after so long. You look just like your parents. What a pity, what a pity.”_ And then they’d shake their heads and go on about how lovely his parents had been. Bilbo was used to it by now.

Regardless of all the cheery and kind welcomes, he was more than eager to retreat back to Hamfast’s house.

“Certainly a tiring day,” Hamfast announced, stretching. His bones crackled with the movement from years of labouring out in the gardens. “Tomorrow’s the big day. You got a suit to wear?”

“Just a dress shirt and some trousers. I have a tie, too, but I wasn’t sure how formal she wanted it to be…”

“Well, I doubt she’d want anyone stealing attention, so if you look presentable enough, but not too dressy, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“What about you?” Bilbo wondered. “Wearing your father’s old suit?”

Hamfast gave a nod. “Bell fixed it up for me, made it look a bit less ancient.” He grinned. “She says I look rather dashing in it.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realise this was a competition,” he said now.

Hamfast just shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition,” he replied casually.

He finished dinner and went to bed early, tired both from having to ride early to get here on time, but also from all the work he’d done to help with the wedding today.

When he got into the guest room he finally had time to check his phone which had started going off almost as soon as he arrived in Hobbiton.

**_he’s moping._** Came the first message, this one from Dwalin.

**_Call him and tell him to stop acting like a baby please. _**Dis had sent soon after.

**_Don’t care if u sext him or anything just do something this is painful 2 watch._** Bofur had sent around lunch time.

**_He didn’t even growl at Thranduil._** Dis had told him in another message.

**_Lunch is going untouched._** Frerin had sent soon after. ** _I called dibs and he didn’t even care. You two should argue more often._**

**_I saw wut Frerin sent u jst ignore him._** Ori came next. **_He ate 3 bowls of pasta + snuck the box of candy canes I bought for the tree when we put it up._**

And then another message from Ori: **_Greedy bastard._**

Bilbo grinned and sent a text off to Thorin. **_Sometimes I forget how nosy your family is and how it’s not actually normal. Lobelia is still the monster I remember her to be and I’m pretty sure most of the people who live here should be dead by now. Must be a small town thing._** He sent that before typing another one. _**And they said you were moping like Scrooge so I’m obliged to order you to go and have some eggnog and get your Xmas Cheer on before I come over there and put it on you myself. XX**_

He received a message from Dis a few minutes later. **_He’s cheered up marginally now. Whatever you said thank u thank u thank u._**

****

 


	14. December 18th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one is going to be a twofer because I forgot to upload yesterday (whoops). So I'm uploading this one now, and the next chapter in a few hours.

The wedding was nice. There were no screaming fits and nothing was stolen or thrown. Well, unless you count the bouquet, which bounced off of a number of ladies hands and landed in Bilbo’s lap, which was _super_ embarrassing.

“You’ll have to get married now.” Bell laughed at him while everyone clapped. Some of the others looked a little angry, though, so he threw it again and let them fight over it.

“Oh, please,” Bilbo rolled his eyes, feeling a red flush coming into his cold cheeks.

Hamfast took a swig of his drink. “How is the lucky bastard then?” he asked suddenly.

“Hmm?” Bilbo turned to him, frowning.

Hamfast waved a hand about vaguely. “Troy or whatever his name was.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo corrected, lips twitching into a smile. “And he’s fine. We, uh,” he leant in, lowering his voice slightly, “had a bit of a fight a few nights ago.” People in this town were prone to gossiping, and he didn’t need that right now.

Hamfast raised an eyebrow. “Oh, dear.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted upon gauging Hamfast’s expression. “It’s not like that at all. It was just a silly fight. We’ll make up when I get back and everything will be fine.”

Hamfast looked hardly assured. “Well, if you say so.”

That _was_ what would happen, wasn’t it? Bilbo frowned, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“Ignore him,” Bell informed Bilbo now. “Do you really think Hamfast is a master at relationships?” she laughed and pushing some hair out of her husband’s face now. “I love you, darling, but you don’t know the first thing about that. It took him four years to even ask me out.”

Hamfast rolled his eyes. “Well,” he changed the subject now, “seeing as you’re having a bit of trouble in paradise-”

Bilbo cut in. “I am not having trouble in paradise-”

“-maybe you’d like to spend Christmas here,” he finished. “Bell and I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Bilbo smiled. “That’s very kind of you, but I already have plans. Besides, my home is in Brighton, and so is my family, and I don’t think they’d be too happy that I abandoned them at the last second to spend Christmas somewhere else. _Again_.”

Hamfast let it drop and took Bell onto the dance floor for a waltz. A very terribly executed waltz, but a waltz nonetheless. Bilbo watched in amusement for a while, and then accepted a few dances himself from Hamfast’s nieces.

The party lasted long into the afternoon and night, and it was well past sundown when they finally got back to Hamfast and Bell’s house.

“I’ve got a nice bottle of Glennfiddich in the cupboard,” Hamfast offered when they went inside. “You want some?”

“I’d better not,” Bilbo decided eventually, although the offer was tempting. “I need to drive in a few hours so I should sober up. But I’ll gladly watch you drink some more.”

Bell made both herself and him a strong coffee while Hamfast poured a good measure of the drink into his own mug before raising it in a toast. “To the wedding, to the bride, to the groom, and to the hope that they won’t get divorced in the first year.”

They touched mugs.

“So is Brighton very cold this time of year? I assume it’s pretty chilly, what with it bein’ on the coast,” Hamfast took a sip of his drink, “but is it snowing, or…?”

“It’s pretty cold.” Bilbo replied. “It’s snowed a little, too. Not much though. But the weatherman did say on the radio before I left that some snow’s coming in, so it could be snowing now. Is it this chilly here all the time?” He didn’t really remember winters here in Hobbiton. He remembered spring and summer and the blossoming trees and the grass and the smell of mildew and the kids running into the rivers in their underwear when it got too warm.

“We’ve had a bit of a cold snap lately,” Bell replied for her husband, who looked about to fall asleep. “But yeah, it’s been about this the last few winters. We got snow last year, but the year before it was just rain and sleet. Not that that deterred the kids, though. Throwing sludge and mud at each other.” She rolled her eyes. “I told Hamfast to remind me that if we ever had kids we’d make sure they weren’t as messy as the others.”

The conversation drooped a little after that, mainly because they were all slowly falling asleep in their drinks, and eventually Bilbo called it quits for the night and napped on the couch until a little bit after midnight and then went to pack again.

Hamfast was passed out in his bed by this time, but Bell stayed up to help.

“He never could hold his liquor,” she joked, laughing as Bilbo zipped his bag up. “At our wedding he almost passed out while we were dancing,” she rolled her eyes. “One sip of anything remotely alcoholic and he’s on the floor drooling. Bit embarrassing sometimes, but at least he can’t misbehave when he’s unconscious, right?”

Bilbo laughed.

“One more coffee for the road?” she offered.

“Sure, thanks.”

She kicked Hamfast out of bed soon after to say goodbye, but Bilbo didn’t get much more than a murmur out of him before he rubbed his eyes and trailed back up the stairs to pass out again.

“I suppose I’ll call you closer to Christmas,” he told Bell as they stood at the front door. “You know, see how you’re doing, that sort of thing. Maybe by then he’ll have recovered from his hangover.”

Bell laughed. “Maybe. Drive safely.”

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I’ll stop halfway there and make sure I get both breakfast and something for second breakfast when I’m on the road again.”

Second breakfast consisted of some disgusting breakfast roll, and he finished it begrudgingly, glad he was on his way home.

 

 


	15. December 19th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for those of you who are just reading this now, this is the second chapter I've uploaded today, so you should go back and read the one before this first!

The second he stepped foot through the door he was grabbed and yanked off his feet. He dropped his bag on the floor with a _clunk_.

“Oh, well, this is a nice hello,” he managed to mumble through Thorin’s kisses. “I suppose this means we’re not fighting anymore, then?”

“No.” Thorin replied before returning to kissing him. By some miracle and no short amount of skill Thorin got them to the bedroom before falling onto the bed, managing to keep them both from getting brained on the bedside table or the headboard. Bilbo yanked off Thorin’s shirt before hastily working on his jacket and his own shirt, throwing both behind him carelessly.

“Good wedding?” Thorin wondered conversationally, unbuckling Bilbo’s jeans.

“It was a wedding. You know the deal, teary speeches from parents, the chicken dance, smooshing cake in each other’s faces, that sort of thing.” Bilbo rolled onto his back, shimmied out of his jeans before grabbing at Thorin’s jogging trousers. “God, you look like a slob,” he laughed, leaning up and kissing him again.

“Love you too,” Thorin murmured, fumbling in the dark for the bedside drawer.

“I even caught he bouquet,” Bilbo continued shifting so he could get comfortable. “Though that was an accident.”

Thorin paused only for a moment before becoming completely engrossed in unwrapping the condom.

Bilbo frowned, sitting up so he could lean on his elbows. “Did I say something?” he wondered now.

“No,” Thorin insisted, pushing him down and hastily kissing him again.

Bilbo laughed. “If this is about the bouquet, just because I caught it, doesn’t mean you have to marry me.” He pushed Thorin’s hair out of his face. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Thorin shrugged. “You really want to talk about this now?”

Bilbo grinned. “No, I suppose not.” He put his hands firmly on Thorin’s chest and rolled him onto his back. “Not unless you want to, of course.” He climbed on top of him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We have talked about weirder things in bed.”

“Fine,” Thorin sighed, “I got a little sleep. Happy?”

He just rolled his eyes in reply before slowly sinking down onto him. “No need to be so snippy,” he managed, teasingly.

Thorin didn’t reply, just put his hands on Bilbo’s hips and urged him to start moving again.

“Fine, fine,” Bilbo smacked his arm playfully. “No need to be so impatient.”

“Family trait,” Thorin muttered, groaning when Bilbo started to rock again. Thorin shifted, sitting up slightly, and ran his hands up Bilbo’s back, fingers digging in slightly.

It was kind of lazy and slow, but Bilbo was far too tired for it to be anything else.

Thorin’s mobile went off the moment they collapsed back onto the covers.

“Are you kidding me?” Thorin groaned, rolling over and looking at the caller ID.

“Important?” Bilbo wondered.

“My father,” he sighed. “I think he forgets about the time differences.”

“Is he still in Australia?”

“Yeah, he leaves for here on the twenty-second,” Thorin paused, “and he’ll get here on the twenty-second as well. Which is… weird.”

“Time differences,” Bilbo just murmured, rolling onto his side and burying his face into Thorin’s shoulder.

Thorin heaved a sigh before answering. “Yes?”

“Not too early there, is it?” Bilbo heard Thrain ask.

“It is, but I’m awake. What did you want?”

“Just making sure everything’s alright. I’m all packed and ready to go. Are you picking me up from the airport or is Dis?”

“I think Frerin might be,” Thorin replied, running a hand down his face.

Thrain sounded worried about that. “Frerin cannot drive. He’s terrible enough normally let alone on winter. I’d rather not risk my life, thank you.”

“Well, I’ll talk to Dis and see if she can do it and get back to you later today.”

Thrain paused before asking. “Bilbo there with you?”

“Yes,” he replied for Thorin. “I am. Hello.”

“Hello! You’re still putting up with him, then?”

“Trying to,” Bilbo replied, grinning at Thorin’s sour face.

“Well, good luck with that. I’ll leave you both to it, then,” the suggestion in his tone was completely evident and not at all subtle. “Have a good one.”

Thorin rolled his eyes when he hung up. “If you’d like I could pick him up,” Bilbo offered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Save you the trouble of arguing with Dis about who has to listen to him talk about sexually transmitted diseases on the ride back.”

“You sure?” Thorin asked. “Don’t want you to get too uncomfortable.”

“I think I can handle it.” Bilbo told him. “After all, I can cope with you, can’t I?”

 

* * *

 

Fili had caught a cold over the past few days and Kili was dutifully by his side the whole time, refusing to have fun if his brother couldn’t.

Bombur, of course, was trying to change that.

“Come on!” Bombur was singing now. “Snow Angles!”

Kili made a face, but looked tempted. “I don’t want to go outside.” He stayed by Fili’s side in front of the fire.

“Come now,” Bombur turned to Fili. “Tell your brother he’s allowed to make _one_ Snow Angel.”

“Go on, Kili,” Fili urged his brother. “It’ll shut Bombur up.”

“That just sounds like jealousy from someone who can’t make a Snow Angel.”

Fili still hadn’t mastered the talent of that, much to his own annoyance.

“Well, your snow angel will be so fat, Uncle Bombur.” Fili retorted now.

Bombur didn’t appear to be offended; he just raised an eyebrow while the others laughed.

“Well, I’ll have you know my Angel will be twice as good as any Angel your brother could come up with.”

“Will not!” Kili stomped his foot. “My Angels are the best!”

“Well, come on then, little man; let’s see what you’ve got.”

So Kili marched into the snow, followed by the rest of them who chose to stay on the relatively dry porch, and flopped down near the tree in the corner of the yard, beginning to wave his arms and legs emphatically.

Bombur followed suit, though his descent to the ground was a lot less graceful than his nephews had been. He heard quite a few chuckles from Bofur and Bifur in his attempts.

For some time they both laid on the ground, waving their arms and legs, before Bombur declared that was enough time to make a Snow Angel.

“See?” he declared triumphantly, getting to his feet (although it took him a little while to achieve that). “Mine is much better than yours.”

“Is not!” Kili argued, jumping to his feet so he could get a better look at them both.

Bombur laughed, slipping on the snow a little. “Mine is- oh!” he went backwards suddenly, toppling into the fence and going straight through it. They all jumped up from where they were sitting on the back porch, watching in shock as the wood splintered and broke and Bombur rolled right into the pool next door.

“Oh, my God!” Dis ran in his direction, yelling for someone to get towels. Bilbo followed her soon after, skidding to a stop at the edge of the pool, urging Bombur to swim over so they could pull him out.

“I’m freezing my tits off in here!” Bombur yelled, doing something that sort of resembled the dog paddle towards the edge where Bilbo was.

“I’ve got towels!” Came Bofur’s cry. “Are you alright, man?”

Bombur glared up at his brother. “Do I look alright?” he asked.

Bofur snickered. “You kind of look like a big fat ginger cat that’s had a bath.”

Behind him, Bifur burst into laughter.

“Come on,” Bilbo knelt down and grabbed one arm, and yanked, Dis pulling at the other one. Eventually, after a lot of pulling and some help from a very shocked and confused Elrond, they managed to get him out of the water and back inside where he could sit in front of the fire and not freeze to death.

“I’m so sorry,” Dis was saying to Elrond now, as Bilbo helped pick what was left of the fence up and put it into a pile. There was now a big Bombur-shaped hole where the wood used to be. “We’ll pay for it to be repaired…”

“It’s alright. These things happen.”

“Yeah,” Gloin said, “in stupid movies they do. Not in real life.”

“It was kind of funny though,” Frerin interjected, beginning to laugh again. “Like he just slipped and went right through it,” he waved his arm about, “and then _rolled_ into the pool.”

Gloin was laughing as well, looking like he was about to cry with the hilarity of it all.

“I can hear you lot laughing at me, you know!” Bombur called from inside, which only served to make them laugh harder.

Bilbo rolled his eyes and went inside.

 

 


	16. December 20th

The pound was full of loud and noisy animals, all whining and barking and meowing and vying for attention. Bilbo found it incredibly depressing.

Kili had taken a different direction. “Can’t we adopt them all?” He asked, looking up at his mother with his best sad look.

Dis rolled her eyes. “Don’t think you can fool me with that. One is enough for now.” The _for now_ seemed to please him enough, and he let the subject drop as they were led to Pugly.

He was just as ugly as Bilbo remembered, but he did look a lot better now that he’d been fed and cleaned and given his shots.

“Look at him!” Kili crooned. “He’s beautiful!” Pugly seemed to remember him, because he came forward, stumpy tail wagging a little, and pressed his nose through the wires to touch Kili’s hand. “He remembers me!” Kili was delighted.

The vet was looking at the exchange with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I wouldn’t have used the word beautiful,” he said now, “but okay, kid. Whatever you say.”

“So what are we calling him?” Bilbo asked as they rode home. He glanced over the passenger seat to where Kili as cradling Pugly on his lap now. “For sure this time. You only get to name a pet once.”

Fili and Kili glanced at each other.

“Smelly Smaug?” Fili suggested, and Kili burst into fits of delighted laughter.

“Well, Smelly Smaug it is.” He declared, but he’d always be Pugly in Bilbo’s mind.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, after Smelly Smaug had settled in, Fili and Kili took him for an impromptu carolling session, to which Bofur drew the short straw to lead.

_“Unbelievable,” he’d muttered as they left. “If I have a brain haemorrhage I’m going to come back from the dead and kill you all.”_

They arrived back some time after eight, wide smiles on their faces. Even Bofur was grinning, which was odd. He didn’t look tired or annoyed at all.

“What happened?” Bilbo asked, suspicious, as they came into the living room to warm up.

“We made fifty pounds!” Fili informed them all with a smile.

“I thought you were _carolling_?” Ori asked, confused.

“We were.” Fili replied, nodding.

“Then… how did you make fifty pounds? Did you people give you money to sing?” Dwalin looked concerned at the idea that people would _pay_ to hear Fili and Kili. He wasn’t the only one.

“They gave us money to _stop_ singing,” Fili explained. “And then we thought we could squeeze them for more, so we kept singing, and some of them gave us heaps to get us to shut up!”

“We’re splitting it fifty-fifty.” Kili added.

“We’re splitting it into thirds,” Bofur corrected. “Seeing as I helped orchestrate the scheme, I do get my share, remember.”

“You lot are incorrigible,” but Dwalin was laughing, so there was no heat to the words.

“What’s a third of fifty?” Fili asked now.

The room fell completely silent.

Frerin burst into laughter. “I think you can tell none of us are in accounting, and thank God for that or the world would be screwed.”

Dis was on her phone. “It says sixteen,” she informed her son. “So you all get sixteen pounds each.”

“Sixteen is _spaghettily_ smaller than fifty.” Kili said, pouting.

“Significantly,” Bofur corrected with a grin. “But sixteen pounds is still sixteen pounds.”

Fili seemed to agree. “Just think of all the sweets I could get with _sixteen_ _pounds_!”

“I’m going to put it in the bank and they’ll give me _more_ moneys,” Kili declared happily. “Isn’t that right, Bilbo?”

“Kind of, yes.” Bilbo answered. It seemed to placate the boy. “But what about Smaug over there? He helped sing too, didn’t he?”

“He _howled_ ,” Fili informed him.

“Doesn’t he get a share of the money?” he wondered now.

“Well, we can give him one of Ma’s pies instead,” Kili suggested. “But I don’t thinks he uses moneys, Uncle Bilbo.”

Bilbo shrugged, leaning back into the sofa. “Fair enough. They’re your spoils; you decide what to do with them.”

Conversation returned to less strange things.

“When do the others arrive?” Ori wanted to know.

“I know that Thrain’s coming in two days,” Gloin informed him. “You know when your brothers are getting here?”

“I think it was either tomorrow or the day after,” Ori made a face, “I can’t really remember. They’ve been in the Highlands these past few weeks so the receptions terrible and I never really understand what they’re saying.”

“What about Balin?”

Ori looked expectantly at Dwalin. “No idea,” he just shrugged. “All he told me was that he was meeting up with some chick he met online and then coming down.”

“Jesus,” Frerin said now, “what if he’d dead, or lying in a bathtub of ice somewhere, missing one kidney?”

“He texted me this morning,” Dwalin replied with a raised eyebrow. “He’s fine. Said the lady he met was…” he pulled his phone out, searching for the message so he could get the wording right, “’ _A complete fox’_.”

Frerin and Gloin groaned in unison.

“Yeah,” Dwalin continued, “he goes into further descriptions, but I figure I don’t have to scar you all with it just because he scarred me.”

“Thank God for that.” Bombur laughed now.

“Well, you know,” Dwalin replied, “Christmas Spirit and all that. Would hardly be festive if I made you all suffer, would it?”

 

 


	17. December 21st

“I’m pretty sure,” Bombur said conversationally as they sat together in the kitchen, “that I heard Dwalin and Ori having sex last night.”

Gloin choked on his coffee. “And you’re telling _us_?!”

“Well,” Bombur made a face, “I haven’t actually slept because of it, and I’ll admit I’m emotionally scarred, so yes, I’m telling y’all. I need to talk to _someone_ about it.”

“Then pay for a psychiatrist,” Gloin informed him, getting to his feet and leaving the room. “Disgusting,” Bilbo heard him mutter as he left.

“I feel weird asking this,” Bilbo began, “but what was it even _like_?”

Bombur waved a hand vaguely about. “I don’t… it was just… I mean it was _loud_. Not something I needed to hear _ever_.

“Huh,” he said now.

“I think someone said ginger muffin,” Bombur continued, making Bilbo spit out his coffee and laugh, “and I know Ori’s the only ginger, so it had to have been Dwalin and-”

“What’s so funny?” Ori came through the doorway now, cutting Bombur short.

“Nothing,” he insisted, shaking his head quickly. “Nothing at all.” He turned his attention to his cup, which was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

“Coffee, Ori?”

“Oh, no thank you. I don’t drink it. I will have a glass of milk, though.” He announced, making his way to the fridge.

Bilbo grinned at Bombur before speaking again. “So, Ori,” he asked now, “good night’s sleep?”

Bombur choked on his drink.

“Yes, it was alright,” was Ori’s reply. “We heard the strangest noises, though.”

“You did?” Bombur asked, frowning now. “Was it, like… _sex noises_?”

“Oh, my God, yes!” Ori spun around to look at them now. “You heard it, too?”

“God, yes. I thought it was _you_.”

“What?” Ori looked indignant. “I would _never_ do that here with all of you in the same house!”

“I heard ‘ginger muffin’,” Bombur informed him, “and just… you know.”

“Oh,” Ori rolled his eyes. “Dwalin calls me that in his sleep sometimes. But we certainly did not have sex. And even if we did we’d never have sex as loud as whatever _that_ was.”

“If it wasn’t you two, who was it then?” Bilbo asked now.

“Got any coffee in the pot?” A new voice asked from the doorway and they turned around to find…

“ _Nori_?”

Nori smiled cheerily. “Mornin’!”

“When the hell did you get here?” Bombur wanted to know.

“Last night, of course. It was pretty late so I didn’t bother waking anyone up.”

“Wait a second…” Ori said now. “Did you stay in Bofur’s room last night?” Bofur’s room was just across the hall from both Ori’s room and Bombur’s room.

“Oh, God, _no_!” Bombur cried. “Please no. That just makes it ten times worse!”

“Oh, my God,” Bilbo pressed a hand to his mouth.

“What?” Nori asked, frowning.

“You were so loud last night that the whole bloody hall heard you.” Bombur told him, setting his coffee cup down with a clack.

“Well, what do you expect? We hadn’t seen each other in a while.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re Romeo and bloody Juliet,” Bombur spat, “you do not have overly loud, semi-public sex in this house.”

Nori clicked his tongue and sat down next to Bilbo. “No Christmas Spirit with you is there?” he asked now, shaking his head. “It’s just sad.”

Bilbo smothered a laugh into his mug while Ori made his brother a drink.

“Dori’s still asleep?” Ori wondered as he pressed the mug into Nori’s hands.

“Yeah, the travel took it out of him. He’ll probably be in bed until midday, knowing him.”

“That’s what the holidays are all about,” Bombur said now. “That and _not_ emotionally scarring your whole family with very loud sex.”

“Oh, my God, are you never going to get over this?” Nori wondered now. “Grow up, Bombur. People have sex all the time, right Bilbo?”

“Why are you dragging me into this?” Bilbo asked.

Nori rolled his eyes as Bombur replied.

“Well, usually people like to pretend their siblings do not have sex for the sake of their own sanity, so thank you for breaking my brain, Nori.”

“Might be an improvement,” Nori teased, taking a sip of his coffee. “Oh, this is perfect. I love Dis’ coffee machine.”

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Bilbo said, peering over Thorin’s shoulder that night while he typed, “you are allowed to have a break every now and again. It _is_ the holidays.”

“Just let me finish this email with the report.” Thorin replied, still typing.

Bilbo sighed. “Fine then. I suppose I’ll just go have a shower. _By myself_ ,” he added loudly as he left the room. He heard Thorin stop typing, and then he cursed.

Bilbo laughed, waiting for him to catch up and carry him into the bathroom.

 

 


	18. December 22nd

Bilbo was never sure what to think of airports. He found them kind of exciting, in a way. But the expensive food was more than enough to irritate him. There were always a lot of crying people, too, in airports. Or people who were very clearly frazzled and stressed out.

Thrain appeared to be neither.

“Bilbo!” he crushed him in a hug after finding him through the crowd in the terminal. “Good to see you.”

“You, too.” Bilbo replied. “The car’s this way,” he nodded in the direction of the exit. “How was your flight?”

“Crappy,” was the simple reply. “As all flights are. But there was a fascinating woman beside me who had ten children, so that was interesting.”

“Not all on the flight together, I hope?”

“Oh, no, only three of them were. But they were all grown so there were no horrible crying babies.”

“Well, thank God for that.”

Thankfully, Thrain waited until they were in the car to start the embarrassing questions. “How’s your sex life?” he wanted to know.

“Uh…”

“If you two need any counselling, I know a terrific sex therapist. And you know, there are hypnotists who in a few sessions can sometimes help fix premature ejacu-”

“Okay,” Bilbo cut in there. “Everything is perfectly fine, Thrain. _Really_. We don’t need any counsellors or hypnotists. It’s great.”

“No troubles?”

“None at all.”

“And you’re both perfectly happy? At the same level of enjoyment?”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “Yes. We are.”

Thrain looked pleased. “Good. I’m glad to hear. Thorin always was the least comfortable of all my children about sex.”

“Maybe he’s just not comfortable talking to you about it.” Bilbo suggested now.

“Well, I can hardly see why.”

“To some people sex is a very private thing. They don’t share it around with everybody. Even close family.”

Thrain just shrugged. “As long as everything’s fine. Sex is such a big part of a relationship. You’d better get on top of that now (if you’ll pardon the pun) or else down the line things’ll get a little hard. Oh! Another pun,” he grinned. “And, you know, once you two are married and everything sex will be even more important.”

Bilbo felt himself redden and he found himself laugh a little. “Well, I don’t think we’ll be getting married any time soon.”

“Why not?” Thrain wondered.

“Well, uh, we haven’t even talked about it. And… well, he’s been busy with work a lot, and I don’t think he’s really thought about it.”

“Did you tell him this?”

“Of course not,” Thrain raised an inquisitive brow and Bilbo continued. “I told you we haven’t talked about it. I mean, even if he wants to get married, he probably won’t think about it for years. I wouldn’t have thought about it for years if you hadn’t of brought it up now.”

“But do you?” Thrain prodded now.

“Do I what?” Want to talk about it?

“Want to get married,” he elaborated.

“Oh. Well, I… I’ve never thought about it before. To be honest it sort of feels like we’re already married.”

Thrain laughed. “If it makes you feel any better you two act like you’re married.”

“I’m not sure if that does make me feel any better.” Bilbo admitted, turning onto their street now. “Now, you’ve got everyone presents, right?” he asked Thrain. “And they’re all appropriate, aren’t they? Because if you get Fili another Playboy magazine, I think Dis may kill you.”

“Dis and Frerin made a list of all the age-appropriate things I could get,” Thrain assured him as he pulled into Dis’ car park. “So it’s all sorted out.”

“Good,” Bilbo clicked is seat belt off. “Let’s go inside, shall we?” he asked, relieved to have some sort of a distraction. That way Thrain could direct the awkward questions at another member of the family and not him.

During the chaos of everyone greeting Thrain, Bilbo followed Thorin into the kitchen.

“You look like you had an interesting trip.” He said, smiling.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a law against family being this nosy.”

Thorin just shrugged, leaning against the counter.

“Hey,” Bilbo began now.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever think about the future?”

Thorin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What, like robots?” he asked.

Bilbo burst into laughter. “No, I meant _us_. Our future. Although maybe robots are involved, I don’t know,” he teased now. “But do you?”

“Well,” Thorin shrugged now. “Sure.”

“Yeah?” Bilbo asked.

“Yeah,” he frowned again. “Don’t you?”

“Well, occasionally, I suppose. I never really considered the big things before.” Bilbo paused. “I always just assumed we’d continue along and when things happened they’d happen. Do you think we’ll ever get married and have kids?”

“Do you want to get married and have kids?”

Bilbo thought about it. “What, right now? I don’t even think the church allows short notice bookings. Besides, adoption takes ages. Or did you want to just nick a kid off the street?”

Thorin chuckled. “Don’t be silly.”

“I wouldn’t mind it, I suppose,” Bilbo finally answered. They fell into a long silence. “Should we talk about it?” he asked eventually.

Thorin smiled. “Nah,” he replied.

 

 


	19. December 23rd

Bilbo and Thorin dragged their bags up to Dis’ house that morning, ready to spend the next few days there with the rest of the family. Kili went through Bilbo’s suitcase, looking for gifts, but Bilbo had already given them to Dis days before to hide up on the top shelf where the boys couldn’t find them. Kili did, however, find a pack of condoms in Thorin’s bag.

“Uncle Thorin? Why did you bring balloons?”

They both turned to find Kili sitting on the bed, having pulled half a dozen packets out, and was ripping them open and trying to blow them up.

“Oh, Jesus.” Thorin snatched them off of him. “Is nothing private in this house?”

“Do you really need to ask that?” Bilbo wondered.

“Can’t I have them?” Kili asked, frowning.

“They’re adult balloons.” Bilbo explained quickly. “You don’t really get to play with them until you’re older. And, uh, I suppose when you’re older Thorin will explain, won’t you, Thorin?” Bilbo turned to him now.

Thorin made a face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to. Better me than Frerin, right?”

“Well, we don’t want him emotionally scarred, do we?”

Bilbo took Kili downstairs, just in case Thorin brought anything else in his bag, taking him into the kitchen to help Bombur make his cookies.

“So, what’d you get Thorin?” Bombur queried casually while he rolled out dough.

Bilbo whined. “Oh, not you as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s been asking me that. Do you know what he got me?”

“I do, yes,” Bombur grinned.

“Can I have a hint?” Bilbo prodded.

Bombur thought about it for a moment. “It’s something you’ll use every day.”

Bilbo frowned. “Oh, well that’s not helpful at all.”

“I know what it is! I know what it is!” Kili bounced up and down on the counter where he was sitting. “ _I know what it is_ ,” he began to sing.

Bombur cringed, but sang along, although he changed the song from Kili’s impromptu tune to 12 Days of Christmas.

When they got to five golden rings, Bombur frowned and stopped. “‘ _Five golden things_ ’?” he repeated, looking at Kili in confusion.

“Uh-huh.” Kili nodded.

“It’s five golden rings, Kili,” Bilbo explained. “Four _Colly_ birds, three _French_ _hens_ two _turtle_ doves and a _partridge_ in a pear tree.”

Kili didn’t seem to like the real lyrics at all. “What’s a partridge?” he wanted to know.

“It’s a bird.” Bombur explained.

Kili scoffed. “Who wants a _bird_ for Christmas?” He turned thoughtful. “But I do like pears, though.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bilbo agreed. “I wouldn’t want three French hens. Or turtle doves. Actually, let’s scrap the whole list.” He waved it off. “I would like five dozen bars of chocolate, four very expensive new suits, three million dollars, two tickets to Las Vegas and a very nice new car. What about you, Bombur?”

“I’d take the chocolate,” Bombur agreed, “but I’d have four new restaurants, three television contracts, two book deals and… well, I’d very much like it if I went home after the holidays to find Brooke Shields in my bed.”

Bilbo burst into laughter. “And what about you, Kili?”

“Uh… five spaceships, four hundred of Bombur’s raspberry tarts, three ray guns, two dinosaurs and a Jenna-Louise Coleman.”

“Good choice,” Bombur told him, offering a high-five, which Kili eagerly took. “With my new restaurants it’d be easy to make you four hundred raspberry tarts. Okay, okay, let’s try it again.” Bombur began singing 12 Days of Christmas again, and Kili got nearly all of it right.

“ _Five Golden Rings!_ ” Kili squealed.

“Four Colly birds-”

“Three French…” Kili made a face, “men.”

Bilbo choked on laughter while Bombur continued. “Two Turtle Doves.”

“And a _something_ in a pear tree!”

“Well done,” Bilbo clapped. “You were nearly there.”

“What’s the bird called again, Uncle Bilbo?”

“Partridge,” he informed Kili.

“Okay.” Kili jumped off of the counter. “Fili!” he called, running out of the kitchen. “We’ve been singing the song wrong!”

“So,” Bombur said now, “no five golden rings?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Why do I need _five_? That would look weird, right?” he lifted his hand up now, trying to imagine it.

“I guess so,” Bombur relented, “But you could always just sell them.”

“Oh,” Bilbo grabbed some cookie dough and popped it into his mouth. “Good idea.”

 

* * *

 

“I suppose sex is completely out of the question, then,” Thorin sighed that night while they side by side in bed.

“Bombur and Ori heard Bofur and Nori having sex the other night.”

Thorin winced. “Okay, understood.”

Bilbo grinned and rolled over, crawling on top of him. “Just means we’ll have to be _super quiet_.” He whispered now.

Thorin buried his face into Bilbo’s shoulder so his laugh was smothered.

 

 


	20. December 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, guys, it's Christmas Eve.

Delicious smelling food was cooking all day, and Bilbo was certain the ham wouldn’t last until Christmas day. But Bombur was like a war lord defending treasure, and if anyone came near the food to pinch some, he’d smack them on the hand with his wooden spoon and kick them out.

They finally put the tree up. Because apparently, according to Bombur, the ‘right time’ to put the tree up was Christmas Eve, which Bilbo thought was stupid, obviously.

But it was a nice family activity, even if there was a bit of yelling over what decoration should go where. And they hadn’t put the tree up properly in the stand so it fell onto Gloin halfway through when someone leaned on it the wrong way, which was actually hilarious. Not that Gloin thought so.

Then they placed all the presents below it, and the boys proceeded to shift through all of them, inspecting them carefully and shaking them, trying to gauge what was inside.

Okay, well, they weren’t the only ones. Bilbo was doing it too, but only because he hated surprises.

“It actually looks pretty good,” Thorin was saying, looking up at the tree from the sofa.

“Well, we’re not idiots.” Frerin replied. “Of course it looks good.”

“I could argue with that.” Bofur said now, taking a sip of his drink.

“This one is for you, Bilbo.” Kili handed him a badly wrapped present. “It’s from me.” Bilbo could see that from the large ‘from Kili’ on the front of it in black marker. The K was backwards and he’d written from and form, but it was still cute.

“Well, I wonder what this is,” he mused now, lifting it up to his ear and shaking it. Something rattled loudly. He frowned. “Did you put something little in a big box to throw me off?”

Kili just grinned, looking happy.

“Huh,” he looked at the box again. “Is it a… rock?”

“No,” Kili laughed now.

“A ball?”

“No,” he shook his head, hair falling in his eyes.

“A pair of socks?”

“Nope!”

Bilbo pulled a face. “Why not?” he wondered. “I like socks.”

“You do?” Kili looked confused. “For a _Christmas present_?”

“Well,” he leant in, “I’m a bit weird, aren’t I?”

Kili nodded. “You sure are, Bilbo.”

Bilbo laughed and put the gift back down. “Now, what else is there? Oh!” he grabbed a small box and threw it at Thorin behind him. “That one’s for you.”

Thorin frowned at it. “It’s a little small.”

“Were you expecting a new car?” Bilbo asked him.

“Maybe I was.”

“I’d like a new car,” Ori sighed wistfully.

There was a knock at the door.

“Oh, finally!” Dwalin got to his feet. “That’ll be Balin.”

They all shuffled to the front door, although Bilbo and Thorin stayed.

“You can open it now, if you’d like.” Bilbo informed him. “I have another gift, you know, another little thing, so I don’t mind.”

Thorin hesitated for a minute before pulling at the paper. “You’re sure?”

Bilbo nodded. “Uh-huh, go ahead.” He watched with a grin when Thorin pulled the paper off, opened the box and looked at the gift that was revealed, frowning.

“Coupon Book,” he read. “Warning: Cannot be used for nefarious purposes.”

“Open it,” Bilbo waved at him to get a move on.

Thorin did. “‘ _This coupon states that Bilbo Baggins owes Thorin Durin… blank.  Good for one time only_ ’.”

“You can write whatever you’d like in the blank part. _But_ ,” he said now, grinning, “as the warning clearly states: I am not to be used for nefarious purposes.” He tried to gauge Thorin’s expression. “Is it okay? I had no idea what to get you.”

A smile slowly stretched over Thorin’s face. “It’s great. I love it.”

“Good,” Bilbo said, pleased with himself. “Because I worried about it for weeks and weeks and everyone was telling me you’d gotten me such a _good gift_ , so it needed to be good too, and-”

Thorin silenced him with a kiss and pocketed the coupon book as the others returned, Balin in tow.

“Hello Balin!” Bilbo smiled up at him. “Do you like our tree?”

“Oh, yes, very much. In fact, I’d better take a picture,” he slid his iPhone out of his pocket.

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “He has three hundred followers on Instagram,” he explained now.

“Oh wow, that’s… a lot.”

Balin shrugged.

 

* * *

 

“But I don’t want to go to bed!” Fili whined, almost waking his brother.

“Now, you’d better go to bed,” Bilbo informed him. “Because if you don’t Santa won’t come.”

Fili crossed his hands over his chest, a picture of stubbornness. “I know Santa’s not real, you know. I’ve told you already.”

“And I explained that Santa isn’t one person, don’t you remember?”

“I don’t get it,” Fili threw himself back into the bed, staring up at the roof.

“Look, you like Christmas don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You like getting to see your family?”

“Yes.”

“An eating lots of food and giving and receiving presents?”

“Yes and yes,” Fili rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“And Christmas feels special to you, right?”

“Yes.”

“ _That’s_ Santa. The feeling, the enjoyment, that’s what Santa is. Maybe he’s not a big fat guy in a red suit, but that doesn’t mean that feeling isn’t real. Besides,” he poked Fili now, “if you don’t go to sleep you don’t get to open presents tomorrow. And _maybe_ , if you listen real hard, you can hear sleigh bells in the distance.”

Fili made a face. “That’s so lame.”

“Yes, well, I’m a lame kind of guy.” Bilbo threw his arms wide. “I like sleigh bells. And I like Santa. Who doesn’t like Santa?”

Fili shrugged. “I guess he’s kind of cool.”

“The dude can fly.” Bilbo said now. “Of _course_ he’s cool.”

Fili giggled.

“Now come on, get some sleep. You’ll close your eyes and before you know it it’ll be the morning.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine,” he relented, worming under the covers. “Night, Bilbo.”

“Night.”

And if Bilbo checked on them later that night and found Fili straining to hear something in the distance, he didn’t mention it the next day.

 

 


	21. December 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, dudes!

He woke to screaming.

“ _Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!_ ” Kili was banging a pot and running up and down the hall.

“Fuck,” Bilbo pressed a hand to his head. “That’s just… not cool.”

“It’s five in the morning!” he heard someone shout now. “Go the fuck to bed!”

“I’m coming back at six!” Kili declared, but thankfully the banging and screaming stopped.

Bilbo yawned and stretched. “Do we have to get up?” he asked now.

“Don’t think so,” Thorin rolled over, wrapped a warm arm around Bilbo’s waist. “We’ve got an hour.”

“An hour of sleep,” Bilbo said, enjoying the idea.

“Probably not,” Thorin replied, sounding a little more awake now. His hand snaked up Bilbo’s shirt.

“Thorin,” Bilbo complained, “it’s cold and everyone will hear us.”

“Then we’ll just have to be _super quiet_ ,” Thorin murmured into his shoulder, hands moving down and slipping underneath his pyjama trousers.

Bilbo jumped in shock. “You’re mocking me.”

“I am, yes.” Thorin nudged at him to move.

Bilbo sighed and rolled over so he could face him now. “It’s five in the morning,” he said, leaning in to kiss him. “I am not a morning person, let alone a morning _sex_ person.”

Thorin grinned against his lips. “Now where’s your Christmas spirit?” he asked. “It’s Christmas Day, Bilbo, give a little.”

He rolled his eyes in reply. “You’re ridiculous.”

Thorin seemed proud of that. “I am, yes. Now help me get these silly things off,” he said, turning his attention to Bilbo’s pyjamas.

 

* * *

 

They got downstairs… eventually, and all piled together in the living room while Frerin (who drew the short straw) had to make a huge pot of coffee and bring it out. Fili and Kili were practically humming with excitement, bouncing on the balls of their feet, shouting for Frerin to hurry up so they could rip into their presents. Dis very slowly sorted them into piles so the frenzy wouldn’t be too great, and after what seemed like an eternity (at least to the kids) Frerin finally came back into the living room.

“Alight,” he said, “have at it.”

The boys dove in instantly, in a chaotic mess of wrapping paper and shouts of excitement.

The adults were a little more reserved, but just as excited.

Ori got Dwalin a handmade sweater and a notebook of sorts that Dwalin grinned at, but wouldn’t let anyone else see.

Bombur got three sets of knives, which everyone felt guilty about, but he seemed to enjoy. “I never have enough knives,” he said, “so this is good!”

Balin got a new GPS and a gift card, among other things. Gloin very much enjoyed his whetstone from Bilbo, and his fancy polish from Oin and his lovely little wooden knife that Bofur whittled him.

Bofur got a new hat, one that looked exactly identical to his old hat, which was now falling apart. “Perfect!” he put it on, and it made almost no difference at all.

Frerin very much enjoyed his gift of twenty pounds stuck on the card with the note ‘One free lap dance on me’ from Bilbo.

“I’m so using this before the week is out.” He announced, getting a slap on the shoulder from Dis and a frown from Kili.

“What’s a lap dance?” He wondered. To which no one answered.

Dis got a fuel voucher for her car, a set of fancy looking leather notebooks and wine from Frerin along with the message ‘you look like you need it’ scrawled on the side of the box it came in. She laughed at Bilbo’s gift, the microwave, and reminded Fili and Kili that they were never to touch it ever again.

Bilbo got some very nice books he’d been thinking about getting for a while, a pair of very woolly socks from Ori, which, he assured Fili and Kili, were an excellent present. He also got a set of bamboo forks and spoon from Bofur who’d said he’d spent hours on YouTube watching how to make them properly.

By the time everyone was done, the floor was littered in wrapping paper and everyone was looking rather pleased with themselves.

“Wait, wait,” Frerin put a hand up when a few of them began to move. “We’re forgetting one present.”

“We are?” Balin frowned.

“Oh, we are!” Ori looked delighted.

All eyes fell to Thorin and he produced a box out from behind his back where he’d been hiding it.

“Ah, the famed gift I’ve been hearing about,” he took the box out of Thorin’s hands and lifted it to his ear, shaking it. He frowned. It sounded… heavy. “Huh,” he made move to open it, but Thorin stopped him.

“Uh, just before you do…” he offered him a folded piece of paper.

“Is that one of my coupons?” Bilbo frowned, reaching for it.

“Yes,” Thorin informed him, “but,” he pulled it away from Bilbo’s grasp, “you have to open the present before you read it. Okay?”

Bilbo looked at him suspiciously. “Alright,” he took the piece of paper and set it in his lap. “Can I open it now?” he lifted the box up.

Thorin gestured for him to go ahead.

He ripped open the paper and flipped open the lid of the box to find… “A box,” he stared blankly at it. Thorin looked delighted, though, as did the others, so he continued. “And…. _another_ box. And another box and another and another,” Kili and Fili started to laugh now. “Oh, they’re getting small now. And another box, and… oh look, another, very small box.” He reached in, frowning when his fingers brushed against it. “Is that _velvet_?” he asked, making a face.

“Just open it,” Thorin told him.

Bilbo pulled it out of its slightly bigger box, pushing away the Russian-doll-like array of packages. He picked the piece of paper up again.

“Alright,” he said, wedging his fingers under the small box and opening it. “Oh.” He blinked, surprised, before turning his attention to the coupon, reading it out loud. “This coupon states that Bilbo Baggins owes Thorin Durin _a Very Stressful Wedding_.  Good for one time only.” He let his hands fall into his lap as he looked up at Thorin. “ _Oh_.”

All the little jokes made sense now, those weird comments that seemed sort of out of place.

And then he realised he should have seen it coming a long way off.

Thorin was watching him very carefully.

“You want to marry me?” Bilbo asked.

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Well… yes,” he replied dryly, “that’s the gist of it, I’m glad you picked that up.”

“Oh.”

Thorin sighed and cleared his throat. “You’re supposed to answer now, Bilbo.”

“I am?” he asked, still a little out of it. And then he realised. “Oh!” he leaned over, putting his hands on Thorin’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I should have said something.”

Dis was laughing, but managing to smother it in her hand. Frerin wasn’t bothering to try to hide his laughter. Balin, of course, had his phone out and was filming the whole embarrassing thing.

“Yes,” he kissed Thorin now. “Yes,” he kissed him again. “I will. Of course I will.”

“Thank God,” Thorin sagged in relief. “You had me worried there for a moment.”

The others started clapping.

“About bloody time,” he heard someone say.

Frerin wolf whistled.

“Put the damn ring on him!” Gloin called.

“Oh,” Bilbo picked the box up again. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologising. You said yes, that’s what I wanted.” Thorin took out the ring and slipped it on Bilbo’s finger.

Bilbo grinned. “It’s fits perfectly.”

“Yeah, well, I had it for a while, so I had time to try and get your measurements right.”

Bilbo frowned at him. “How long is a while?”

Thorin shrugged. “Since last October when you showed up at my apartment in that ridiculous costume and asked me to move in with you.”

“See, Bilbo?” Kili told him now. “I told you it was the best present ever.”

“I don’t know…” Bilbo told him. “Your gift of that ornament with all the seashells we got at the beach last year was pretty good too.” Too bad all the seashells hadn’t been glued on properly and had fallen off, but it was the thought that counted, right?

 

 


	22. December 26th

“I suppose the sex will get really boring, then, now that we’re getting married.” Thorin joked.

“Well, if you’d like, I can talk to your father and-”

“Okay, okay,” Thorin caught his arm just as he was about to turn on his heel and walk off, “taking the joke too far there.”

Bilbo grinned. “You sure about that?” He was about to call Thorin his ‘ginger muffin’, but Dori came into the living room, looking more than a little concerned.

“Bad news. The dog got into the leftovers. The turkey has been decimated and I’m not even going to talk about Bombur’s cranberry tart. He’s currently in a food coma in the kitchen.”

“Oh, that’s it. Holiday season is officially over, that dog is far game. I’m gonna hunt it down-” Frerin stalked off, still muttering.

“Can’t really hunt it down if it’s sleeping off its feast,” Thrain called after his youngest son.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, looking at Thorin.  “He really likes Bombur’s cranberry tart.” He explained simply to Bilbo, shrugging.

“Pity,” Bilbo murmured, “I was kind of looking forward to trying it.”

“Well,” Thorin stretched, contented, “there’s always next year.”

“Right,” he grinned as he replied. “Next year.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All finished now! Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos and wished me a happy holidays. Hope you all had a good Christmas!


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